The Girl of Tomorrow
by Thuktun Flishithy
Summary: You'll believe Taylor can fly.
1. Prologue

Danny Hebert hated the cold.

It bit and nipped at every exposed patch of skin, despite his attempts to bundle up, and the fierce wind blowing against him didn't help. The sea was turbulent, threatening to swallow his small fishing boat and drag him to the frigid depths below, and a stinging rain whipped to the sides, soaking him to the bone. He had sailed upwards, carefully skirting along the Canadian coastline and into Arctic waters, where there was good fishing.

Well, normally.

His hands were pale and shivering as he worked, pulling up yet another empty cage. Getting work as a deep-sea fisherman was getting harder and harder with each passing day, as the oceans were depleted of their bountiful stock, and even here he was having trouble getting enough to break even. It didn't help that the bigger ships, the ones owned by actual companies, did his job on a far bigger scale.

Hauling the cage back onto the deck, he muttered a curse to himself and made for the cabin. He had to struggle against the wind to shut the door, but he eventually managed to get it done. Rubbing his hands, he decided to switch on the radio, if only to keep himself distracted while he tried to warm up.

" _...a dreadful sight in what used to be Moscow today, as the city perishes in nuclear fire. Earlier this morning, the creature known as Behemoth appeared in the Red Square, where it was engaged by an assortment of local parahumans and the Russian military. Despite managing to inflict grievous wounds on the monster, the defensive forces were forced back, and a small nuclear warhead was-_ "

He turned the radio off.

Warmth was finally starting to return to his hands. Breathing into them, he put on a dry pair of gloves and went out again, wincing as the wind bit into his face. One more haul, then he was heading home, back to Annette. There was no way in hell he was going to keep up with this if he kept on getting small fry and garbage.

That was when he noticed it. Something close to the boat, nearly as big as he was and bobbing in the violent waves. At first, he thought it was just a hunk of ice, drifting down from the Arctic, but as he peered closer at it, he realized that it was artificial in nature. It appeared to be made out of a silver metal of some kind, with a sleek form, and he found himself wondering if it was valuable loot.

There was one way to be certain. Grabbing the cage again, he hurled it at the silver object. The first time, he missed and had to pull it back, but the second time was a success. Once he was sure that the cage had the thing secured, he began to tow it closer to the boat. Sea spray drenched him as he worked, but he ignored the cold, tired muscles straining as he pulled the silver object closer.

As he got a better look at it, he realized that it looked almost like a missile of sorts, or like something from an old science fiction story. Small fins sloped out from the wide base, and a series of bulges ran equidistant around the middle, almost imperceptible.

Finally, it clunked against the side of his boat, and he pulled it up. It was far lighter than he'd expected, and as he set it down with a sharp ringing noise, he realized that it was actually hollow. It definitely had to be a storage container of sorts, but of what?

He ran his hands over the smooth metal. It was surprisingly warm to the touch, and almost pliable like plastic as he pressed down on it. He looked around, searching for a handle or a hatch, but found nothing. The thing didn't even seem to have bolts or screws; it was as if it was made from a single piece of metal.

Was it tinkertech? It seemed more and more like a viable explanation with each passing second. Those barely-understood capes could make laser cannons out of junk; it wouldn't be out of their league to make something like this. Hell, he occasionally sold scrap he found to one in Newfoundland.

And if that was the case, then who made it? There didn't appear to be any form of identification on the rocket-like object. No barcodes, no sigils, nothing.

Wait. There was something, a faint design etched into the metal. A stylized 'S' of sorts, within the outline of a diamond. He ran his hands over it, his brow furrowed.

If it was tinkertech, then he could sell it to the local PRT for good money; they were always greedy for stuff they could try to study. The tinker in Newfoundland might be interested as well, but he was sometimes away from port on some strange task.

Danny straightened with a sigh. Something told him he was going to have to discuss it, first.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You brought it _here_?" Annette asked, incredulous. "What were you thinking?"

Danny looked across the strange object at his wife. It was surprisingly easy to bring it to the garage, where he had plopped it down on a table and called Annette down. Her reaction was, to say at the very least, unamused, and his explanation did not help.

"I, uh, got cold feet," he replied, rubbing the back of his head. "I was going to bring it in to the PRT, but I suddenly started thinking that, hey, they might think I was a mad tinker with a bomb, and... I decided to just come back here with it."

Annette pulled off her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Okay, I can see that, I guess. Kinda. But what if it is a bomb or something?"

"It didn't explode on the way here, so I thought it might be safe. I mean, it took a good few hits when the weather got really rough, and nothing happened even then."

"I think we should call the PRT, see if they can take it from us," Annette said, warily running a hand over the metal of the object. "Maybe they can-"

She was interrupted by a sharp click, one that sent both of them taking a startled step back. Eyes fixed on the strange container, they watched as a hatch slid open, and a small mechanical arm come out. It began to shine a bright green light on the wall, then circled around the room, as if it was scanning for something. The Heberts simply stood and watched, paralyzed with shock, as the light swept over them.

The arm stopped after three revolutions, then retracted back into the container. An even larger hatch sunk in and slid open, accompanied by a soft hiss of air as the inside of the container was exposed.

Then, a baby began to cry.

Danny glanced back at Annette, his jaw agape. His wife returned the favor, then looked back at the rocket. There was a moment's pause, and then she took a cautious stepped forward.

"Anne-" Danny began.

"Honey," she whispered, reaching her hands inside. "Look."

Slowly, gently, Annette pulled a baby out of the container. The infant was bundled in what appeared to be a red blanket, which was now the same color of its cheeks. Its cries ceased when Annette brought it close to her chest, and Danny stepped closer to it, a surreal feeling washing over him.

"H-how," he said, disbelief clear in his voice. "I mean, that thing was closed for three days straight, and it... it was in the water..."

"Shhhh," Annette whispered, gently rocking the baby in her arms. "It's okay, it's okay."

Danny looked down at the baby's face, its piercing blue eyes, and it looked back at him.

Then, it giggled, and something changed in him.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"I don't think anyone's coming for her," he said.

They had moved to the living room, after hastily covering the rocket with a tarp. Annette sat across from him, still holding the baby. It was asleep, now, and still wrapped in the red blanket.

"It wouldn't matter if she did have someone," Annette said. "What kind of monster puts a baby in a box and puts her in the middle of the ocean?"

Danny blinked. "Her?"

"I checked. She's a girl. And I'm not just ready to give her up."

"Who said anything about that?"

"You didn't, but you implied we might have trouble," Annette replied. "Why send her to an orphanage when she could have parents here, right now? How long have we been trying for a baby?"

"A while," Danny sighed. "A very long while."

The baby cooed in her sleep, and Annette rocked her again. Danny watched, a small smile on his face.

"We're going to need to fabricate something if we go through with this," he said. "We need a birth certificate for her."

"We also need a name, first," Annette said. "How about... Sarah?"

Danny shook his head. "Nah; she doesn't seem like a Sarah. Claire? Lois?"

"I'm not feeling that, either. What other names did we come up with, all those months back?"

"Well, there's Tara, Lana, Zoe, Taylor-"

"Ooh, I like that one," Annette said. "Now what for a middle name?"

"Let's go with your name," Danny replied. "You have your mother's name as a middle, and I have my dad's; it'd only make sense."

"Yeah, that sounds good. Taylor Annette Hebert."

Danny smiled. "Taylor Annette Hebert."

The baby cooed again, as if in agreement.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was a cloudy day in Newfoundland when Danny came to port. The surrounding town used to be quite bustling, especially during the summer, but now there were only a half-dozen boats in the harbor. It wasn't a isolated case, either; coastal areas around the globe were suffering. Ever since that Leviathan monster appeared, people had become scared of port towns.

After securing his boat, he stepped onto the pier, tightly gripping the canister in his pocket. He had found it in the capsule, after checking to see what else had come with Taylor. It seemed to have a cap, but it refused to budge, no matter how hard he tried. Annette was not happy when she found out about the broken power tools.

He chuckled to himself at the thought, and walked to the bus stop.

Thankfully, the tinker was at the office when Danny finally arrived. After getting buzzed in by a rather heavyset clerk, he walked down the hall and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Danny. I think I have something for you."

"Oh? Do come in, then."

Danny opened the door and stepped inside. "Morning, Andrew."

"It's nice to see you," Andrew replied, leaning back in his seat. "So, what do you have this time? Make sure it's nothing too illicit like last time; the authorities' patience wears a bit thin with me."

"I think that's for you to decide," Danny said, producing the canister.

Andrew's brow furrowed. Rising from his seat, the tinker walked over and grabbed the canister, studying it intently. He peered at the cap, then tapped it, listening keenly to the hollow sound it made.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

"I found it in the water, far from the coast," Danny replied. "I tried to open it, but the cap won't budge."

"I wish I had heavier equipment in the office," Andrew muttered. "I think I could still get a result, though."

Setting the canister down on the table, he produced a hand-sized device from a drawer. With a flick of a switch, it beeped to life, and he gave it a once over before setting to work. Holding it over the canister, he began to slowly sweep from side to side, eyes glued to a small screen on the gadget.

"Hmm... very interesting structure. Different from what I usually work with." Andrew glanced up at Danny. "Would you mind if I held onto this for a while?"

"Well... I'll give you a few hours. I have to sell the boat, anyway."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Danny replied. "It's getting harder to make a living off these waters. There's already a job opening at the docks back home; Annette wants me to take up on it."

"Well, I'll miss having you visit," Andrew said. "You're a lot nicer than most of the sellers I have to deal with."

"It was good money," Danny admitted as he headed for the door. "It just wasn't enough to pay the bills."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

A few hours later, Danny returned to find Andrew at the desk, the canister before him. There was a haggard look on the tinker's face, as though he had gone for too long without rest. An assortment of gadgets cluttered the table, some of them dismantled.

"Something wrong?" Danny asked.

Andrew looked up, rubbing his face wearily. "This has got to be the most stubborn thing I've ever had to work with. X-ray scanners don't get a good reading, and neither does sonar. The laser failed to cut a hole when I used it, even after I upgraded it. Unscrewing the cap with hydraulics didn't work, either. I ground smooth a diamond drill on the thing, and a nano-cutter became chipped and dulled when I tried to cut into the metal."

"That's not very normal, I take it," Danny said.

"The material isn't even enhanced by a forcefield; it's just that tough. I don't think any tinker has actually made something on such a level, which is really saying something."

"What? You think it's from outer space or something?" Danny joked, only for his eyes to widen when he saw Andrew's reaction.

"I'm not jumping to _that_ point," the tinker finally said. "Occam's Razor is still in effect, even when dealing with parahumans. No, there has to be a more believable explanation, somehow."

Andrew picked up the canister, twirling in his hand. "I might have something in my main lab that could handle it. Is fifty-thousand a good deal?"

"Fifty grand?" Danny sputtered. "You've never paid me even a fraction of that."

"That was before you gave me a possibly extraterrestrial object," came the swift retort. "I understand if you want to keep it, of course; it would definitely make for a nice decoration."

"Could I come back to you on it?" Danny squeaked.

"I don't see any reason why not," Andrew replied with a shrug, handing back the canister. "The preliminary scans I made could already be useful for a project I'm working on; there's definitely a computer of some sort in there."

Danny pocketed the canister. "It was nice seeing you, Andrew."

"Likewise."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Danny smiled as Taylor played with her toys, even though he hadn't been able to sleep for days. The docks accepted his resume, and the pay was good. Not spectacular, but better than fishing.

"I don't think she's from around here," he finally said, turning to look back at Annette.

His wife raised her head from the couch. "What do you mean by that?"

"The guy I brought the stuff to? He couldn't make heads or tails of it. Said it was unlike anything he had ever seen before."

"So, what? She's an alien or something?"

"It was just something that was put out there," Danny replied hurriedly.

Taylor giggled as she chewed on her stuffed animal, then suddenly began to wail.

Annette sighed. "I'll go get the formula."

"That's another thing," Danny called after her. "We tried to have her nurse on you, but it didn't work, even after following that medical advice. What if that's because she's not..."

"Human? Because, despite looking _just_ like a baby girl, she's actually a little green man?" Annette finished, incredulous. "Do you hear yourself right now?"

"Maybe the pod did it. Whatever kept her safe during those three days might have also made her look like us. It did open only after you touched it."

"Alright, then let's assume that you're right. Why bring it up?"

"We're going to have to bring her to the doctor for checkups and vaccinations," Danny replied. "What if they find out, and she's taken away from us by men in suits?"

Annette paused at that. She continued to rock Taylor, gently pressing the bottle to the baby's mouth.

"If she get's sick, we're taking her to the hospital," she finally said. "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"Alright," Danny said.

"I wonder if there'll be signs," Annette murmured, her voice soft. "A way to know for sure she's not from around here."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"She did what?!"

The kindergarten teacher sighed, leaning forward on the desk. "The other kids saw it, Mr. and Mrs. Hebert. Taylor broke Chris Tarpey's nose during recess."

"But he started it!" Taylor whined, arms folded as she sat on Annette's lap. "He was pushed Emma off the swingset and laughed at her! He was being a big meanie."

"Daddy will handle this," Danny assured, ruffling his daughter's hair. Already he could feel his temper swell, threatening to burst. "Miss, how could Taylor have done this? She's five, for god's sake."

"All the students saw it," the teacher repeated. "Miss Barnes can testify; she was the one who got pushed off the swings."

"So the Tarpey boy actually did it?" Annette asked. "Why is she in trouble and not him? She was just helping a friend."

"He's already been reprimanded for what he's done, and he _was_ the instigator. But there's a difference between giving a girl a scraped knee, and breaking someone's nose, Mrs. Hebert. It wasn't a small break, either; it was like someone stepped on a rotten tomato."

"Can we at least see what this kid looks like?" Danny asked.

The teacher complied, pulling up a yearbook draft. "He's the first on the middle row."

Chris Tarpey, Danny saw, was not a small kid. If he had to hazard a guess, he'd say the boy was in second grade, maybe even third, and he was a head taller than Taylor. And, judging by the pudgy frame, about twice the weight.

"I can't believe this," he said, the words almost coming out as a growl. "He's picking on kindergarteners, and you're making a fuss about my five-year-old daughter teaching him a lesson?"

"Honey," Annette warned, putting a hand on his arm. "Deep breaths."

"All we're asking for is that Taylor apologizes to Chris tomorrow, after the doctor is done with his nose," the teacher said. "Taylor's not looking at detention, here."

Danny let out a long sigh. "Fine."

"Good. We're finished; you can leave if you want."

"How are her grades?" Annette asked. "Just want to know before we head out."

"Exemplary, actually. Taylor's a smart cookie."

"At least that's good to hear, honey," Annette offered, patting Danny on the arm. "Come on, let's head home."

Danny nodded and rose from his seat. Taking Taylor into his arms, he carried her out of the school and to the car. She was heavy for her size, he noted, and only getting heavier. Buckling her into the back seat, he hopped into the driver's seat. Once Annette was in the car as well, he took off.

As he drove back home, he glanced back at Taylor. The toddler's gaze was focused on the view outside the window, a half-smile on her face. Another strange thing; she was also quiet for her age.

"I hope you understand why you're in trouble, young lady," Annette said, turning in her seat.

"Because Chris Tarpey is a big meanie?" Taylor replied, folding her arms again.

"No, it's because you hit him too hard," Danny said. "There's nothing wrong in protecting a friend, but that doesn't mean you should be as mean to the bully as he is to you."

"But why?"

"Because that's what bullies do. You, Taylor Hebert, are not a bully. If someone is mean to you and your friend, make them stop. But don't be mean. Don't hurt them just because they hurt you."

Taylor pouted. "But-"

" _Taylor_."

"Fiiiiiine."

For a few minutes, they drove silently home. Spring was coming, and the trees were becoming green again. In a few weeks, they could head to the nearby beaches, which would be fun.

"I like the cloud colors," Taylor piped up.

"You mean white?" Annette asked.

"No, the other colors. The swirly things and the stripey things," Taylor replied, manner-of-factly. "I also like the dots on the flowers."

Danny exchanged a glance with his wife, who returned the favor. No words needed to be said; the message was clear enough.

 _We need to talk._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Years later, in the middle of yet another summer night, he woke to the sound of Taylor screaming.

He was out of bed and in her room before he even realized it, a baseball bat clenched tightly in one fist. Taylor was sitting upright in bed, hands clamped over her ears. He was relieved, if only a little, when he saw no intruders in the room. Dropping the bat on the floor, he sat down on the foot of the bed.

"Honey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"I-it's Mom," Taylor sobbed, pulling at her hair. "I h-heard her car hit something, a-and glass breaking..."

"Shhh," Danny said. "It's just a bad dream, Taylor. Mom's fine. It's just a late shift, that's all."

"I wasn't s-sleeping," came the choked reply. "I was listening around, and... and... oh god! I can't hear her anymore, Daddy! I can't hear her heart!"

"You're just stressed out," Danny tried to assure, ignoring the cold knot forming in his stomach. "That's all."

Taylor looked at him, tears rimming her inhumanly blue eyes.

"Dad," she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "What's wrong with me?"

Danny sighed, if only to try and calm himself. "If I show you something, will you stop worrying about Mom? Something to help you?"

Taylor nodded.

Getting on his feet, Danny guided her down into the basement. Rummaging through a corner of the room, he pulled out a large cardboard box and placed it on the ground in front of Taylor, then opened it up. Even after years of being kept in dingy conditions, it had never lost its shine.

"What... what is it?"

"It's what we found you in," Danny replied. "You were in the water, just bobbing in this thing."

Taylor ran a hand over the smooth metal of the rocket. "F-found? You're not saying..."

"It's the only thing that makes sense. I took it to an old tinker friend of mine, and he told me that there wasn't anything like it in the world."

Taylor looked up at him, her eyes wide. "I-I'm not... I'm not your daughter?"

"You are my daughter," Danny said, pulling her into his arms. "I don't give a damn where you came from. Mom and I raised you ever since you were a baby; you're our daughter. You're Taylor Hebert."

Letting go, he pulled the canister from the box. "This was also with you. I tried unscrewing this, but it won't budge. I think it's meant for you, and you only."

As Taylor took the canister into her hands, Danny unfurled the blanket, letting her see the bright yellow 'S' on it. She took it as well, running her hands over the strange fabric it was made out of.

"You understand, now?" Danny asked, his voice soft. "That's why you're different. But that doesn't mean you heard... what you heard. It could be anything, Taylor, anything but that."

Taylor sniffed. "Okay."

Danny forced a smile. "Go back to bed, kiddo. Get some shut-eye."

She did as told, heading back up the steps with the canister and cape in her hands. Danny watched her go, then followed after her. He didn't go back to bed, however; instead, he sat down in the living room.

When the call arrived, thirty minutes later, he broke his glasses.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The funeral was a small affair. Some friends and family were present on that cold winter morning when a cedar coffin was lowered into the earth, and a prayer uttered. Annette always liked Revelation 21:6, but the words seemed to ring hollow as Danny stared at where she would forever be buried. The weather wasn't fitting for such a day. The sun was up, with nary a cloud in the blue sky; it was as though nature decided to mock his - their - loss.

Eventually, the sparse crowd began to disperse, heading to their cars and taxis, until only he and Taylor remained. A cold wind blew by, and he pulled down his wool cap to try and stay warm. Taylor didn't seem to even notice it.

"It isn't fair," she said, her voice hoarse. "It just isn't."

Danny put a hand on her shoulder. "You're right; it isn't fair at all. It isn't fair that she died, when there are horrible people still alive, or all the other bad things going on. The world isn't fair, Taylor, but that doesn't mean we should let it bring us down. She wouldn't want us to."

"I f-feel like I could've done something," Taylor choked, looking down at her hands. "That I could've.."

"Don't think about that," Danny cut off, squeezing firmly, tears welling in his own eyes. "What happened, happened. Don't let it eat away at you, Taylor."

"I'm here for a reason, aren't I? M-Mom always said that if you were good at something, then you should help people with it. Maybe... maybe that's why I'm like this, Dad."

"Maybe. But we can't focus on a word like 'maybe'."

He took a deep breath. "Is there anything you want to say to her, before we go? Something you don't want me to hear?"

A nod.

"I'll get the car warmed up."

Danny squeezed her shoulder one last time, then began to walk away. Sparing his daughter a glance, he saw her look down at a pair of glasses in her hand. Annette's old glasses, before her eyesight got worse.

Her lips moved, silently, then she slipped the glasses on.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Woman of Tomorrow, Prologue: From Another World**_


	2. Arc 1

**1.01**

 **August 2010**

"I'm not liking this," I said, looking down the side street.

Emma glanced my way. "It's just a shortcut, Taylor. C'mon, we'll be fine."

I sighed, then adjusted my glasses. "Alright. But let's go quick, okay? This place gives me the creeps."

"Sure thing," Emma replied casually, walking in front of me.

Sighing again, I followed after her. It was hot out, hotter than usual, and silent. Though the sun was still out, shining brightly, I could see dark clouds in the distance. It would rain soon, and I didn't want to be caught outside when that happened.

Anyone with common sense would be inside already, fanning themselves and putting their feet in icy water while the air conditioner blared at maximum, but Emma and I seemed to be lacking in that department. We had decided to walk to see a movie early in the morning, when it was cooler, and that decision had come back to bite us.

Well, it came back to bite Emma, really; I didn't mind the heat at all. Or the cold winters, anymore. I used to feel the burning heat, and the cold, and scraped knees and all the other unpleasant sensations, but they slowly faded away as I got older. I couldn't remember the last time I felt tired, or even really hungry. Whoever I was, _whatever_ I was, made sure of that.

I still didn't really know who I was. At least, not yet. I did some research into parahumans, looking for an answer, but I found nothing. I even took an anatomy book to a mirror and looked at the inside of my own head, just to be sure. It definitely wasn't normal, what I saw, but it wasn't something that matched with what was known about parahumans.

In a world full of strange things, I was still an oddity.

"Taylor?" Emma asked.

"Hmmm?" I turned to look at my friend, taking note of the infrared blooms across her face as her body tried to cool itself down.

"I asked if you liked the movie?"

"Yeah," I replied.

I didn't actually, but I didn't feel like talking about _why._ With eyes like mine, that could see x-rays scatter on the magnetic field, or a bacterium split, a lot of movies were ruined for me. Music wasn't ruined, thankfully; there was a difference between the unknown sounds of the world and the melodies we made.

"I liked it too," Emma said, wiping her face. "God, it's hot out. Why the hell aren't you sweating?"

I shrugged. "Good genes?"

"Seriously?" Emma giggled. "You look like a vampire with how pale you are. I'm surprised you haven't gotten sunburned this summer."

"I've been lucky. But let's not press it; I think we should hurry up before it rains."

Thankfully, Emma seemed to agree. We broke out into a light trot; I made sure to keep my pace with her and not race ahead. As we made it down to the end of the street, however, I became of a sound I didn't notice before- heartbeats. A half-dozen of them, coming around from each corner. My eyes shifted, and I could see the two groups approach through the walls.

My blood ran cold when I realized they had the colors of the ABB.

"Emma-" I began.

It was too late. They stepped into our path, feet apart and ready for a scuffle. I couldn't smell gunpowder, which was a relief, but I could see the knives hidden in their belts and pockets. One of them slipped on a pair of brass knuckles behind his back, while another one brandished a large chain. Behind me, I could hear more heartbeats, and I realized that we were surrounded.

Emma took a step back when she saw them, then glanced back at me. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and I could smell the adrenaline coming off her skin. She was afraid, very much so.

"Taylor?" she mouthed.

"Wallets and phones," one of the thugs growled, taking a step forward. He was no older than me, but his face was already aged from heavy drug abuse.

"Okay, okay," I said quickly, reaching into my pockets. "Emma, don't try anything stupid. Please."

Reluctantly, she set down her purse on the ground, quickly stepping away. I put my wallet and phone down next to it, and sidled next to Emma. The thug stepped forward and scooped our stuff up, a smug grin on his face.

"Thank you very much," he said. "Now, boys, which one do we want?"

A cold pit formed in my stomach when I realized that they weren't just here for a simple mugging. I glanced at Emma, and I could hear her pulse pounding when the realization hit her, too.

"The brunette's nice," a goon said, licking his lips. "I like curly hair."

"Yeah, but she's flatter than day-old soda," another retorted. "The redhead, though. She's got 'em firm ones, and a pretty face, too. Nobody's gonna mourn a rich bitch like her."

I could hear murmurs of agreement amongst the other ABB thugs at that. Emma gripped my wrist like a vise, a look of terror on her face as she stared at me. I stared back, almost studying her, and my resolve hardened. I couldn't let that happen to her. I wouldn't.

"We agreed, then?" the seeming leader said. "Alright, then. Come here, red. Don't make this tougher than it has ta be."

"No," I said. My voice was soft, but hard and even as I spoke.

The leader blinked in surprise, then gave me a bored look. "I ain't asking ya, no-tits. Donny, get this bimbo out of the way, rough her up a little."

I could hear footsteps behind me, and turned to see a large thug take hold of my arm. His nails dug into my skin, and he jerked roughly, only to grunt in surprise when I didn't budge. He pulled harder, but with the same result.

"Move it, bitch," he snarled.

I looked at him, calmly wrapping my hand around his wrist as I did so.

Then, I _squeezed_.

There was a hideous sound of cracking bone, and the thug screamed in pain as I shattered his wrist. He fell to his knees, trying to pull free, and I punched him square in the jaw. I could feel teeth knock loose with the impact, and he crumpled to the ground with a wet sound, more teeth snapping like chalk. A glance told me he was still alive, albeit in rough shape.

There was a brief pause as the other goons stared at their fallen comrade, and I took a step forward. My hands clenched into fists, knuckles popping, and I tightened my jaw as I glared at them.

"Get her!" the leader shouted.

As soon as they began to move forward, I sprung into action. Dashing forward, I caught another one of the thugs with a punch across the jaw, then tossed him at one of his friends. They collapsed into a heap, groaning weakly, and I hopped over them to catch another goon in a tackle. Hoisting him over my head, I tossed him at a bunch of trash cans, a snap filling the air as his leg broke with the impact.

Hearing metal scrape against leather, I turned in time for a thug to bring down a kukri on my throat. His eyes widened, however, when the blade snapped against my skin, and I rewarded his efforts with a kick to the stomach. He stumbled back, emptying the contents of his stomach, and I casually swept out his legs before moving on.

As if a switched had been turned on, the thugs began to flee, like a herd of cattle that had been spooked. They ran in all directions, some of them tripping over their own fallen, and I watched until they were a good distance away before turning to check on Emma. She was unharmed, thankfully, and she sidled close with wide eyes.

I could still hear an extra heartbeat, and I turned to see that the leader was still there, frozen to the spot. Emma's purse was clutched in his hands, as well as my wallet and phone.

"Hand our stuff back," I said to him, trying to keep my tone even. I could feel myself growing angrier, knowing what could've happened to Emma

The ABB goon simply stared at me, his mouth agape. His heart pounded against his ribs, and a pool of warm liquid had now formed around his shoes. I crinkled my nose as the acrid scent of urine wafted by my nostrils; the bastard had actually pissed himself.

I had enough. I took a step forward, and the thug tossed our stuff back in a panic. He bolted around the corner, and I made sure he was far enough away before letting out a sigh of relief. Kneeling down, I grabbed my stuff and picked up Emma's purse. I handed it back to here, taking note of how her heartbeat was returning to normal; she was calming down, thankfully.

"What..." Emma licked her lips before continuing. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," I replied shakily, my voice soft. "I don't know."

I looked down at my hands, and felt a pang of nausea when I realized they were covered in blood. It was warm and sticky to the touch, and I wanted it _off_.

"I'll walk you home," I said, swallowing dryly. "Okay?"

Emma nodded. "Okay."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was a short walk to Emma's house. Her parents weren't home, but her sister was, thankfully. I stayed on the sidewalk, hiding my bloody hands behind my back as Emma headed inside. She spared me a glance, then shut the door.

Once I was sure no one was looking, I ran.

I sprinted down the street, sharply turning around the corner and dashing towards my own home. The summer rain finally came down, whipping against my face as I ran, washing away the drying blood from my hands.

I was back home before I knew it. The rain was still coming down, and I knew I should've felt at least a little cold as I stepped across the lawn and up onto the porch. Dad was still at work, but I knew where to find the emergency key.

My hands shook as I worked the lock.

Stepping inside, I ran up to the shower, discarding my clothes as I went. Immediately, I went for the bar of soap, and scrubbed my hands until I was working with a thin sliver. Blood flowed down the drain, and I made sure to wash that away, too.

Changing into loose sleeping clothes, I walked into my room and plopped down on the bed. The rain pattered against the windows, like nature's own drums, and I could feel myself calming down as I listened to it. For a while after Mom died, when I couldn't sleep during the middle of the night, I'd lull myself to sleep with the sounds of the world.

Sitting up, I began to look back on the events of just a half hour ago, brushing away the filter of panic. I saved Emma and myself, and I didn't kill anyone. That was good; it meant that there wouldn't be anything coming back to bite me. But how did I do it?

My hands traced where the kukri had broken against my throat. I never knew I was that tough, or that strong. It made a bit of sense, in retrospect, but that still left a lot of questions.

I needed answers.

Rising from the bed, I softly padded over to a bureau stand and pulled the bottom drawer open. Pulling a shoebox out, I set it down on the bed and opened it up. The canister was still there, along with the red cape. Removing them, I absentmindedly put the box aside, and sat back down.

Picking up the canister, I gave it another good look. There was an 'S' engraved on the cap, just like on the cape, and I gripped it tightly. Taking a deep breath, I turned it one way, straining my muscles. When that didn't work, I tried the other way, using my left hand just in case.

There was a brief moment where the cap didn't budge, then it suddenly gave, a low hiss escaping the canister as I unscrewed it. Turning it upside down, a silver tube fell out, along with something that looked like a long crystal. I blinked in surprise, staring at them, then picked up the crystal.

As soon as I did, something happened.

I was no longer in my room, or even the house. Instead, I was suddenly standing in a broad field, surrounded by long red grass that swayed gently in the breeze. The sky was blue, but a different tinge than before, and there seemed to be an almost red tint in it. Turning, I saw that the sun was setting, but it was not the sun I knew. Bigger, much bigger, and _redder_.

I also saw something else. A domed building of some sort, one that appeared to be made of the same material as the canister. The style wasn't like anything I had seen before; it seemed almost like a blend of a countless others, but in its own unique way. A stony path led up to an open door, and I noticed that the place didn't have glass in its windows.

For the first time in memory, I began to sweat.

Taking a deep breath, I walked up the path. It was quiet, very quiet, and I realized that my senses had somehow become dulled. It was a strange sensation, and I hoped it would pass.

Stepping through the arched doorway, I saw that there was only one room in the building. A man was in the middle of it, working on something, and my breath caught when I saw that it was the rocket Dad had found me in.

"Hello?" I called.

The man didn't answer. Licking my lips, I stepped closer, still wary. Light shone down from the top of the dome, and I noted that it was actually an open ceiling. Thin blue clouds drifted overhead, bringing with them a cool breeze.

"Hello," the man said.

Jumping in my skin, I turned to face him. He was tall, and with a powerful build. His hair was jet black, kept in a neat trim, and I could've sworn he had a spit curl. For clothing, he had a black body glove and a red robe over it, the 'S' symbol splayed on his chest. Bright blue eyes stared into my own as the man smiled kindly at me, and my breath caught.

They were just like my own.

"Who?" I began.

"This is a prerecorded message, with only some variables allowed by the data crystal," the man said. "I know you must have questions, and I hope you'll get your answers. The fact that you have the strength to open the canister, as well as the necessary genetic profile, shows that you will understand what I tell you."

He straightened. "My name, young one, is Kal-El. This world is called Krypton, and it is my birthplace. It is also yours."

 _Krypton,_ I thought to myself, eyes widening. _I'm an alien._

"Our world is not so different from Earth," Kal-El continued. "We are, however, much older. We have long since conquered disease and strife and suffering, but there are things even we cannot stop. Our sun, Rao, is dying; in some time, it will consume Krypton. Our governing body has decreed that we shall die with our world, for reasons I cannot explain yet."

Pausing, he gestured to the rocket. "I disagreed with their ruling. This rocket shall, or rather, _has_ , transported you to Earth, keeping you in stasis. Within it, aside from you, is the entire body of knowledge of Krypton. Based on the telemetry this data crystal has gathered, you have lain in the rocket for more than 57 of the Earth's short years. When you were discovered by a human couple, part of their DNA was utilized in altering your appearance as to blend in. In effect, you have two sets of parents; there are your Earth parents, whomever they may be, and your Kryptonian parents- Lani Lo-Is and I."

He - Kal-El - was my birth father? Objectively, I knew it made sense, but at the same time... it was too unreal.

"The name we gave you," Kal-El said, "was Zara Kal-El. Lani is, sadly, dead; one of many earthquakes caused by Rao claimed her life. But you mustn't dwell on her, or on me; you are as much a child of Earth as you are of Krypton, Zara. I sent you to Earth, so that you could do what any good father wants: live, and be happy. But there are other reasons as well, Zara."

 _What could that be?_ I found myself thinking. There was a tightness in my chest, like I could barely breathe.

"I wish for the Earth to avoid the same pitfalls Krypton made, and to weather what is to come. There is much strife on their - _your_ \- world; that much I know. But they have the same capacity for good that Krypton has fulfilled, and you could help bring them to that, Zara."

Kal-El stepped forward, still smiling warmly. "You have already noticed that you are different from the other humans. Stronger, faster, free from the diseases and ailments that tarnish their enjoyment of life. The light of Earth's sun is what grants you these powers, due to its effect on your Kryptonian biology. You will only grow stronger in time, much stronger, but to reach your full potential, you will need to push your limits, Zara. I send you, one last daughter of Krypton, to carry on the legacy of my world, and ensure the future of another."

The building faded away, along with the fields of red grass and the massive sun, and I found myself back in my room. The rain had stopped, and sunlight was shining once more through my window.

I looked back down at the crystal in my hand, then at the cape, neatly folded on my bed.

Some things, Dad told me, didn't happen for a reason. But as I stared at the cape, I knew that there was an incredible reason for why I was here. The sole survivor of an alien world, sent to live, but also to help the world.

Mom always told me, before the day I lost her forever, that if I had a gift, I should use it to help others. And that was what I was going to do.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **1.02**

Of course, I couldn't get ahead of myself; I needed to think things through. Way too many novice heroes died because they just decided to jump right into the thick of it.

Setting down the crystal, I picked up the second thing that was in the canister. Studying it closely, I realized that it was a scroll of some kind, using a thin metal instead of paper. A Kryptonian variant of microfilm, maybe?

Carefully unfurling it, I narrowed my eyes, peering closer until I could see things on the microscopic level. Sure enough, there was something printed on the metal, and written in English. Kal-El must have done a lot of research before sending me here; his English was better than most of the people I knew. Of course, that still begged the question of why it wasn't written in other languages; did he somehow know where I would get found?

Settling down further, I began to read. The sheer amount of information Kal-El had put about Krypton was staggering, like he had crammed several libraries' worth of encyclopedias into the scroll. There was even an extensive table of contents, in order to help me better navigate the long history of the planet, along with countless images of buildings and important figures. History, mythology, technology; there wasn't a single subject left untouched, and I was taking it all in.

I didn't realize how long I had been reading the scroll until I heard Dad pull up into the driveway. Glancing outside, I saw that the sun was low on the horizon, casting a beautiful hue. It was already close to nighttime, which meant that I had been reading for hours. Looking back to the scroll, I saw that I had barely covered a fraction of it, which just hammered home just _how much_ information there was.

Rising from the bed, I hurriedly put the cape and canister back into the shoebox, then grabbed the crystal. I took a deep breath, then opened the door and calmly went down the stairs.

Dad looked up at me as he opened the door. "How'd your day go, kiddo?"

"Oh, it, uh, went okay..."

"Taylor, I'm your father; I can tell when something's up. Are you alright?"

I sighed. "I'm fine. Emma and I just had a scare. Some ABB thugs came up and tried to mug us."

Dad froze. "What?"

"We're both fine," I stressed. "I scared them off; they didn't hurt us."

"Doesn't mean I'm not concerned," Dad said, putting a hand on my shoulder. "Are you really okay, Taylor? You could've gotten hurt during all that."

"I don't think so, Dad. It's I wanted to actually talk to you about."

I held up the crystal for him to see. "I managed to get the canister open, and it had this inside. I finally know where I'm from, Dad."

Dad froze, eyes fixed on the crystal in my hand. "What is it?"

"Just touch it," I replied. "You'll see what I mean."

Reluctantly, he held out his hand. I put the crystal in his palm, and immediately I could sense that the neural message was playing for him. A few moments passed, then he blinked. Looking at me, he opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. The neuron activity in his brain was spiking as he tried to process what he just learned, and I noted that he was beginning to sweat.

"Wow," he finally breathed.

"I know," I said, taking the crystal back. "It's just so... fantastic. It all makes sense, now. I'm like this for a reason, Dad."

"Yeah, yeah," he said, slumping down into his favorite armchair. "It's just... knowing that all at once, after so many years in the dark..."

"It doesn't really change things, though," I offered, stepping forward to give him a hug. "I'm still your kid, Dad; nothing's going to change that."

He smiled at that. "I'm glad to see you're happy, kiddo. How about we get takeout to celebrate finding out?"

I smiled back. "That sounds good."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Later that night, after I had gone back up to my room, I decided to read more of the scroll. Dad expressed some curiosity when I told him about it, but decided it wasn't worth it to have me read it aloud to him. Considering just how much there was, I could understand his angle.

As I unfurled it again, I decided to switch up my reading a little. When I first started, I was so excited that I just read as much as possible, without skipping any sections. But, as I noticed, there was a sizable table of contents at the beginning, one that covered all the topics and subtopics the scroll contained. So, I decided to do some selective reading, to see just what Kal-El had put down.

I decided to go with some history first. It was fascinating, seeing how they had gone from something uncannily similar to Earth, with its own fair share of strife, to a species that prospered for millions of years. The wonders they accomplished seemed almost like something out of an old pulp-novel, stuff that almost everybody nowadays decried as silly pipe dreams.

Suddenly, my phone rang.

Reluctantly, I put the scroll down and grabbed for my clunky old cell. Flipping it open, I leaned back against the headboard and answered the call.

"Hello?"

"Taylor?" a voice asked. Emma's to be exact.

I sat up again. "How're you feeling?"

" _I'm feeling a bit better, after all that... you know_ ," she replied. " _I don't think I got to say thanks for bailing me out like that_."

"You don't have to," I said. "It's what friends do for each other."

 _"That means a lot, Tay. So... do you have powers now or what? I decided to look it up after you pounded those dudes into hamburger meat_."

"I guess? Maybe? It was all so confusing; I was so caught up in what happened that I didn't really give it a thought."

" _That does sound like something a new pairhuman would say_ ," Emma offered. " _I looked up what some pairhumans said in interviews and stuff, and they kinda said what you said_."

"I guess that's the case, then. And it's 'parahuman', Emma."

" _That's how you pronounce it?_ " she said, surprised. " _Shit; I think I've been saying it wrong for my entire life_."

I chuckled. " _Remember when I kept on pronouncing chameleon funny?_ "

Emma giggled at that. " _Yeah, that was funny. Anyway, what are you going to do now?_ "

"What do you mean by that?" I asked. "Like, am I going to be a hero?"

" _Yeah, that does sound like a cool idea. You could join the Wards and fight crime with big heroes and stuff._ "

"I'm a bit hesitant about that," I said. "I mean, that does sound like a good idea, but I don't think I'd want to handle all that teen drama. Besides, they don't get to actually fight crime that much."

" _Oooooh. Going to wage a one-girl war on the dark, evil, dark underbelly of the evil dark criminal underworld?"_

"I don't think you used 'dark' or 'evil' enough," I replied, giggling.

" _You think?_ " Emma asked. " _Anyway, I think we should hang out tomorrow and talk more about it. That sound good?_ "

I smiled. "Sounds like a plan to me. How about Fugly Bob's at noon?"

" _Kay. See you there, Tay._ "

The phone went dead, and I snapped it shut. Putting it back on the bedside table, I went back to reading the scroll. As I did, one of the sub-topics caught my eye.

 _The House of El_ , it was titled. And, right beneath it, was the same symbol on my cape.

Feeling more than a little anxious, I began to read.

The House of El, apparently, was one of the oldest on Krypton, with a history that stretched back to their ancient times. Many famous historical figures shared that bloodline, most of them scientists. Mon-El, the pioneer of nanotechnology. Ilo Bar-El, who designed the transporter disc. Countless innovators and inventors, who raised Krypton to greatness.

There were, however, more than a few famous warriors among their ranks.

An image showed an illustration of a man, wearing armor not too unlike a medieval knight's, with a long red cape. In one hand, he carried a long sword that was awash with flame, while in the other he held up some strange creature's head, triumphantly displaying it for all to see.

 _Vor-El,_ the caption read. _A mythological hero of old, who slew a beast that had been terrorizing a village for many years. There are analogues between him and the Earth legend of Hercules, which are elaborated on in the sections that deal in mythology._

I noticed that on his breastplate, painted in red and yellow, was the 'S' sigil of the House of El. According to the scroll, it was one of the oldest symbols on their world, one that stood for hope.

Hope. That was a rare commodity these days, considering all the awful stuff that was going on. Every day there seemed to be a news article about mass murders or terrorist attacks caused by capes, and that was just around here. The rest of the world was even more messed up, with Europe coming to a crumble and China becoming a xenophobic dictatorship, with warlords fighting over the scraps.

And, every four months, an Endbringer would chose to make on of those places even more hellish. People tried to stay optimistic about it, but we all knew the world was slowly coming to an end. Scion was the greatest single force for good on the planet, and even he couldn't turn the tide against what was happening.

What if I could?

I studied the image of Vor-El standing proudly on the horizon, how the light gleamed off the emblem etched into his breastplate. He was more than the legendary hero the text described him as; he was a symbol of hope, that even when things were at their worst, they could still see a better day. Kal-El had said I would grow even stronger than I already was, and that the only way to find out how much was to push my limits. Just how powerful could I eventually become, under the light of the sun?

I glanced at my drawer, and peered through until I could see the cape inside. For the briefest of moments, I imagined myself in Vor-El's place, bearing hope on my chest as I fought for a better day.

That gave me an idea.

I rose from my bed and fetched a notebook from the closet. There was a pen on the bedside table, and I grabbed it as I sat back down. The night was still young, and it had been nearly a year since I felt the need to sleep.

Uncapping the pen, I began to draw.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **1.03**

The weather was a bit cooler than yesterday, and people were heading out as a result. The jostle of people moving through Fugly Bob's made me uncomfortable as I walked inside with Emma; I didn't like the idea of someone eavesdropping in on my conversation. Considering just how preoccupied everyone was with some soccer game, though, I decided that it was a small risk.

After making our orders, we took one of the booths by the windows, where we could get a nice view. Sunlight filtered in, sending a trill of warmth up my spine as I sat down, and I could see the heatwaves billowing off the water from where I sat. With my senses, I don't think I could ever find a sight boring.

"So," I began. "What do you want to start with?"

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. "Let's see... how much do you know?"

"About my-" I paused, then lowered my voice. "About my powers?"

"Yeah. So, you're definitely super strong, but do you have anything else?"

It suddenly struck me that, despite being friends for years, I had never opened up to her about _anything_ regarding my nature. I didn't feel it was right, back then, but things were different, now. There was no more hiding secrets from her, and it felt cathartic.

"I can see more things," I replied. "Like, I can see x-rays and infrared and all that. I think I can see the entire spectrum of light, and I can look at microscopic things. My hearing's also a lot better. See that man sitting three booths behind me?"

Emma glanced over. "Yeah."

"He's been a smoker for at least twenty years. Started young, too. I can hear the beating of his heart, and the rasping of his lungs every time he takes a breath. He seems to be quitting, since I can't smell a lot of tobacco on him, but it's done its damage."

"Cooooool," Emma said. "So, you can see people naked? That must be freaky."

I shrugged. "Happened on accident a few times, but I have a good lid on it."

"Anything else? Or is that it?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I mean, I feel like I can do more, but I'm afraid to test it."

"Sounds like you need to find a place to test."

The waiter came with our orders. Emma had gotten a chicken sandwich with a small soda, while I had ordered a salad. A cursory glance told me that it was clean, though the dressing was loaded with preservatives.

"Man, I forgot just how greasy this place is," Emma remarked, looking down at her meal. "This thing looks like a delicious heart attack on a bun."

"It's close, and the food's cheap," I said, taking a bite of my salad. "Besides, it's not like we come here everyday, right?"

Emma chuckled. "I think we'd both be six feet under if we did."

She took a tentative bite of her sandwich, then put it down. "Anyway, we need to think of a place where you can test your powers and train."

"When did you become a cape groupie?" I asked.

"Since last night," Emma replied, sipping her soda. "Did you know that Armsmaster has his brand on toy halberds?"

"I did. And does the Graveyard sound like a good idea to, well, train?"

"It's a _bit_ obvious. I mean, a lot of capes in the past went there to train, so now people have their eye on it. Besides, I heard that the E88 is near there."

I chewed my salad thoughtfully. "There might be a place we could head to. Near where my dad works at the Docks, there's an abandoned scrapyard. Not a lot of people walk by it, since it's kinda spooky looking, which would be good for keeping it secret."

"How long a walk is it?" Emma asked. "It's still pretty hot out."

"It's a bit far, but it's closer to the beach. The sea breeze could help you cool on the way."

"Count me in, then."

I smiled. "Let's finish up and head over there."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Ugh," Emma groaned, a hand on her chest. "I think the food's already clogging my arteries."

"Your heart's pretty healthy, actually," I said absentmindedly as I walked beside her. "Still could use some more exercise and less candy, though."

"Puh-lease, like you're one to talk. You look like a sick vampire."

"Considering that I have honest-to-god superpowers, I can safely say that I'm in good shape." I stopped, then pointed ahead. "Anyway, this is it."

Emma turned to look at the entrance to the scrapyard, which simply consisted of rusty chain-link fences and a gate. Beyond it, I could see the piles of scrap metal and assorted garbage that would serve to help hide us from any prying eyes, already becoming overgrown with vegetation. There weren't any large animals nearby; they had the sense to avoid it.

"I'm glad I got my tetanus shots," Emma murmured. "Are we sure we should head in?"

"You could stay outside if you want," I offered. "Besides, it's better here than a place close to Neo Nazi supervillains."

"Okay, but don't get too far out of sight. This place gives me the heebie-jeebies."

"Alright, then," I said.

With that, I walked to the gate, Emma trailing behind me. There was a heavy-duty padlock on it, secured in place with thick chains, and I decided that it would make for a good first test of my strength. Taking it in one hand, I squeezed until I heard metal groan, then ripped it free with a sharp click as the chains broke.

"Jesus," I heard Emma mutter. "I'd need huge bolt cutters for that."

"And that didn't feel too hard," I murmured.

Opening my hand, I saw that the body of the lock had actually bent around my fingers, as though it was made of putty. Judging by the weight, as well as its composition, it was most likely some high-grade steel, which testified to how much force I had exerted to warp it like that.

Casually discarding it, I opened the gate and stepped inside. There was a thick sheet of metal close by, and I decided to walk over and see if I could lift it. Taking one of the edges in my hands, I hoisted it neatly into the air, as easy as lifting a sheet of paper. To my surprise, the metal didn't warp under its own weight, nor did it cause me to sink into the ground. Flexing, I began to tear it up with ease, lumping the pieces together until I had something the size of a basketball.

"Toss it!" Emma shouted behind me.

I decided to oblige. Adjusting my grip, I threw the lump of metal like an oversized softball. Though my form was clumsy, I still managed to hurl it a good hundred feet, where it promptly smashed through a pile of scrap. Hunks of metal flew out from the point of impact, creating an unpleasant cacophony, and I winced as I considered just how much noise it was making.

"Maybe we should, uh, call it for a day," I said.

"Sounds good," Emma swiftly agreed. "My house?"

"Your house."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Thankfully, Emma's parents and sister were out, which meant that we could talk without fear of being overheard. We decided to head to the living room, where I promptly plopped down on the couch and began surfing through the channels. According to the news, they were doing a ten-year anniversary report of the Green Dragon's first appearance.

"Ya know, you're going to need a costume," Emma commented, sitting down beside me.

"Well, I've been thinking about some designs," I said, leaning back into the living room couch.

"Sweet. Can I see them?"

I obliged, pulling out the notebook from my backpack. Flipping it open, I handed them over to Emma. She studied the illustrations closely, running a hand over them, then glanced back up.

"What's with the 'S'?" she asked. "You have it on every drawing."

"It's not actually an 'S'," I replied. "It's an ancient symbol that represents the ideal of hope; I read about it somewhere not too long ago."

Hey, it wasn't a lie.

"Well, it looks like an 'S' to me," Emma said. "Looks pretty good otherwise, though you need to come up with a mask."

"I've been trying, but it's harder than I thought. I don't want to look threatening or criminal, and it needs to be easy to wear, practical. Domino masks probably won't cut it, and anything else would draw attention."

"How about goggles? My sister has some in the garage, back when she tried that biker phase."

It did actually sound good, the more I thought about it. I had no idea how well my eyes would hold up to the wind when I was moving. Sure, it probably wouldn't do much, but pilots used to protect their eyes for a reason. And, the goggles would be big enough to conceal at least part of my face, while avoiding a threatening appearance.

"Can I see them?" I asked.

"Sure," Emma replied.

She got up and walked out of the room. I peered through the walls, watching as she went into her sister's room and opened a drawer. She came back quickly, goggles in hand, and dropped them on my lap. Picking them up, I ran my thumb along the thick straps.

"They look like something the Red Baron would wear," I said.

"But they're pretty cool, huh?"

"Let's see how I look, first."

Taking off my glasses, I slid the goggles on. Securing the strap, I glanced back at Emma.

"Well?" I asked. "How do I look?"

"If you weren't my best friend, I'd probably have trouble recognizing you. God, your eyes look really blue without the glasses, you know? Like, not normal blue, either."

"Thanks?"

Emma chuckled. "I meant that as compliment. Anyway, let's look some more at your ideas. I'm really liking that simple one."

"Sure thing."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dad was still at work when I came home. The E88 was hampering business even more so than usual, which meant that he needed to work overtime in order to pay the bills. It was tough work, and I could sense just how stressful it was on him.

Hopefully, I'd be able to change that.

Glancing at the clock, I saw that I had a few hours to myself, so I decided to gather the materials in order to start the costume. I grabbed a pair of old work boots from the closet, then brought them up to my room, along with the goggles. Depositing them on the bed, I then headed over to Dad's room to see what else I could grab.

As it turned out, there was a lot of material to work with. There were a few white shirts that had never been taken out of the closet, as well as some unused cloth. Mom used to sew, and we never bothered to get rid of her old kit. There was also an old handbook she used to reference, and I decided to speed-read it before grabbing the kit and walking back to my room.

Now that I had the materials, I began to work.

I was luck to have some spare shirts around; there were more than a few mistakes on the way. My hands were steady, though, and already they were moving fluidly as I began to carefully stitch cloth together. I spent a lot of work on the emblem, carefully sizing it and reproducing the exact shape that was on my cape, then began to attach it to my shirt.

Eventually, Dad came home, and I hid the half-finished costume under the bed. He was in a better mood than usual, thankfully, and we spent some time watching TV after dinner. After a while, he decided to tuck in for the night.

Once I could hear him snoring, I resumed work, and finished within the hour.

I sat on the bed, taking in my handiwork. It wasn't the best costume ever, but it was certainly good for a homemade one. Combined with the cape, and I could see it looking good when I took it out.

Of course, that'd have to wait. There was no telling just what my limits were, and what else I could do. Emma and I had just barely scratched the surface with the whole thing; I'd need to practice more if I wanted to be ready for the streets, and that could take-

" _Help!"_

My train of thought came to a screeching halt as the cry reached my ears. It was fairly close by, judging by how attenuated it sounded, and I realized that it must have been coming from a few blocks down.

Turning to the source, I narrowed my eyes, peering through the brick and wood of obscuring buildings, and saw it. A girl, even younger than me, surrounded by a trio of men that towered over her. They all had knives in their hands, and I could even _smell_ the testosterone wafting off them. The girl's heart was pounding against her ribcage like a jackhammer, and the look of terror on her face reminded me of the fear Emma had when we were attacked.

Well, so much for taking things slow.

There was no way I was just going to sit by and let them hurt her. Even if someone called the police, it would probably be too late, and the neighborhood was a fairly empty one. The only hope she had at the moment was me.

Rising to my feet, I took off my glasses, then began to put on my costume.

The jeans came first, then I slid on the work boots. I pulled the white shirt with the emblem on it next, hastily straightening it, then removed my hairpins. Normally, I kept my long hair in a ponytail, but I let it shake free to better hide my face as I fastened the goggles on. Finally, I put on the cape, draping it over my shoulders and securing it.

All of that took a second. It took less time to open the window and hop out, shutting it on the way down. I landed on my front lawn in a crouch, then straightened. Taking a deep breath, I began to run towards where I had seen the girl.

 _This looks like a job for-_ I thought to myself, only to realize I still hadn't picked out a name yet. _Eh, fuck it._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **1.04**

I was amazed by my own speed as I ran, the ground whirling beneath my feet as I threatened to break the sound barrier. In the span of mere seconds, I was already arriving at the scene, ready to fight.

The thugs had forced the girl into a corner, leering looks on their faces as they shouted slurs and obscenities at her. She tried to move to the side, only for one of them to move in close and make a kissing face at her. They drew in around the girl like a net, brandishing their knives to show the power they held over her, their own hearts pounding with excitement. The whole thing sickened me to the core, and I found myself thinking of what could have happened to Emma if it weren't for me.

There was something rewarding in the thug's eyes when they saw me barge into sight.

I skidded to a halt, putting myself between them and the girl. They reflexively backed away, adrenaline rushing through their veins as the fight-or-flight response kicked in. Their grips on their knives tightened, and I could see that they were gearing for a fight. Taking a moment to study them, I saw that they all had swastika tattoos in various places on their bodies; it seemed that they were E88 goons.

"Leave her alone," I said, lowering my voice. The intention was to sound older, but I couldn't help but cringe inwardly.

The seeming leader of the trio frowned. "Defending a nigger? Get the fuck outta my sight, little bitch, and maybe I won't call someone in to tear ya skinny ass a new one."

They definitely belonged to the Empire, if they were threatening to bring in more. The E88 was the single largest gang in Brockton Bay, with over a dozen capes, and led by the infamous Highfather himself. If it weren't for Lung and his own gang, as well as the local Protectorate and other heroes, they'd be running the city. Even then, they were a force to be reckoned with, and it'd be bad luck to get their attention on my first night out.

I took a step forward, fists clenched. "That wasn't a request. You can still walk away from this, or you can wake up in the hospital."

One of the thugs seemed ready to take the offer; he even took a step back before the leader shot him a glare. Behind me, I heard the girl slowly shuffle away, trying to stay hidden.

"Get her," the leader growled.

All three of them ran at me, and I sprung into action. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as I shot forward, catching the leader in the gut with an uppercut. I had to be careful not to hit too hard, otherwise I'd end up punching right through him, but I could tell that it hurt. He stumbled back from me, his movements sluggish to my eyes, and collapsed to the ground.

The other two didn't have time to react before I took them down as well. I caught one in the jaw, knocking him out cold, then swung him in the direction of the other. They collided with painful force, then fell in a tangle of limbs, the conscious one groaning weakly. He briefly struggled to get free, then stopped when he saw me walk over. One swift kick to the chin, and he was also down for the count.

Now that they were taken care of, I turned to look at the girl. She was shorter than me, with dark skin and hair, and dressed in rather gaudy looking clothing. Though her heart rate was still elevated, I saw that she was calming down. Sweat trickled down her face; nights were hot and muggy during the summer.

"You okay?" I asked.

The girl nodded, wiping a hand over her brow. "Y-yeah. Yeah. Thanks for, uh, helping me out."

"No problem. Do you have a cell phone? We need to call the police to load these guys up."

"Sorry," the girl replied, patting her pockets. "Don't have one. I think there's a payphone nearby, though, and I have some change."

"Go to it, and call the cops," I said.

The girl nodded. "Okay."

She turned to go, then looked back at me. "Who are you, anyway? A new cape?"

"I'm-" I began, only to pause. I still hadn't figured out what my cape name was going to be.

"I'm here to help," I finally replied.

"Then what's with the 'S' on your chest?"

I sighed. "It's not an 'S'. It's means hope."

"Alrighty then, 'here to help'. I'll go make the call," the girl said, jogging down the alleyway.

I watched her turn the corner, then continued to watch her through the walls as she went to the payphone. Satisfied that she was calling the cops, I turned to look for something to secure the thugs with-

-and became aware of another heartbeat coming down the alleyway.

Looking up, I saw a man approaching, a strong gust of wind preceding him. He was shirtless, showing off a muscular physique, and a wore a white tiger mask made out of wood. Peering through it, I saw that his face was pieced and covered in tattoos, many of them obscene, and there was a hard look in his steel grey eyes as he glared at me. Stormtiger, one of the mid-level capes in the E88.

Of course I had the luck to encounter him on my first night out.

"Thought I smelled something strange," he growled. "You made a mistake coming onto this turf, bitch."

That was all he said before he raised his hands and attacked, air currents swirling about his hands as he channeled his power. A strong gust of wind bowled into me, nearly knocking me over, and I had to fight to keep my balance. Stormtiger pressed forward, the gale growing even stronger, and the unconscious thugs began to roll towards me. I needed to act, and fast.

Tensing, I crossed my arms in front of my face, then sprung forward, the asphalt actually cracking beneath my feet. Stormtiger's eyes widened before I collided with him, and the wind stopped as I caught him in a tackle and brought him down hard on the ground. He tried to grapple with me, but I ignored the attempt as I struck him across the face with enough force to crack his mask in two. Stormtiger fell limp, and I stood up, dusting myself off.

He had some chains hooked into his pants as part of his costume; I used that to tie him up. Propping him up against the alley wall, along with the other E88 thugs, I then headed around the corner. The girl was still there, making the call; the fight must have been very short indeed.

"What?" she mouthed.

"PRT," I said. "Stormtiger's unconscious and hog-tied back there."

The girl's eyes widened, then she relayed what she heard into the receiver. Already I could hear sirens approaching, too faint for the human ear to pick up yet. Turning to the source, I could see the police cars approaching, still a while away, and I suddenly felt exposed with only a pair of goggles on. Sure, the chance of them identifying me was small, but the less they saw of me, the better.

"Gotta run," I told the girl. "They'll be here any minute; just stay by the phone."

She nodded, but said nothing else.

I shot her a smile. "Stay safe, okay?"

With that, I bounded away.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

With a soft thud, I landed back on my lawn. Dad was still asleep, his heartbeat steady and even, and I made sure not to wake him as I hopped up to my window. It wasn't locked, thankfully, and I slowly swung it open as I prepared to slip back inside.

Suddenly, I paused.

Why was I heading back in, after less than a half hour out? The adrenaline rush from my altercation with Stormtiger was beginning to wear off, and I could think about the fight more clearly. Sure, fighting a cape on your first night out was a big thing, but I _won_ without even taking a scratch. It'd be more understandable if I was battered and bruised, too exhausted to continue, but I felt like I could go all night.

Glancing up, I saw that the moon was only beginning to rise above the horizon. If I focused my vision enough, I could even see the Apollo landing sites; that was a fun way of keeping sleepless nights occupied. It also told me that the night was still young, and I could hedge a bet that Dad wouldn't notice if I was gone for a few more hours.

Expanding my hearing, I listened in for signs of trouble. Even at night, the city was still bustling, almost a living thing in its own right. People would be heading out to watch movies or eat late dinners... and the criminal elements would be more free to engage in business.

There. A car accident closer downtown; it seemed that the driver smashed into a fence. Focusing my vision, I saw that his face was bloodied, his nose broken.

With a soft click, I shut the window, and hopped back down. Taking a deep breath, I sprinted down the street, heading for the scene of the accident. Flexing my legs, I jumped into the air, clearing a block in a single bound, and kept on going.

The night was still young, and there was still a lot of work to do.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc One: This Looks Like A Job For..._**


	3. Interlude - J

**Interlude - J**

" _-first appearance was in Leviathan's attack on the small English settlement of Hereford, in 1998. Though a small population, its destruction would have brought chaos to the surrounding areas and endangered millions. Local parahumans were caught off guard by the sudden assault, and many feared that the city would be lost before more heroes could arrive to drive the Endbringer off."_

" _Then_ , _to everyone's surprise,_ it _came._ "

" _Eyewitness accounts of the battle vary, but most believe that it managed to grapple Leviathan to a standstill, distracting it until reinforcements could arrive, then slinked away in the aftermath. Those who saw the creature called it the Green Dragon of Mordiford, after a beast from local folklore, and praised its arrival. Casualties were the lowest yet, and Hereford recovered with remarkable speed._ "

" _The creature would appear in other battles. Madrid. Shanghai. Seattle. It never showed for fights against Behemoth, and only twice against the Simurgh, but it never failed to show for a battle against the Leviathan, and its monstrous strength is always welcomed. Many have started to calling the creature the 'anti-Endbringer', a title mired in controversy. No one knows the nature of the beast, with many suspecting that it used to be a parahuman whose power went rampant. Regardless, however, many are glad for its presence-_ "

The phone rang, and Director Jones turned the TV off. The special didn't seem that interesting, anyway; the Howard documentary was a far superior account.

Sighing, he grabbed his cellphone and answered the call.

"Jones here."

"Director, this is Armsmaster," a terse voice replied. "We have Stormtiger in captivity as we speak."

He sat up in his chair. "Is he secured?"

"We have him in one of the holding cells. I believe there is some information that needs to be discussed on base, sir, regarding his capture."

"I'm on my way. Call the others to the meeting room as well; I want them there by the end of the hour."

"Understood, sir."

Jones hung up, then rose to his feet. Stretching, he grabbed his ID card and headed for the door. Briefly glancing in the mirror to make sure he looked respectable, he stepped outside and locked the door behind him. His apartment was on the first floor, which made for a short walk down the stairs and into the lot.

His rusty old car still managed to bring him to the PRT headquarters, though it didn't go without complaint. He often considered just selling it and buying a new one, but he never went through with it; there was a great deal of sentimental value to the bucket.

After being allowed to pass by an older woman at the gate, he rolled up into his reserved parking spot and headed inside.

You could criticize Armsmaster's people skills all you wanted, but the man was punctual. The others were already in the meeting room, waiting for him. Miss Militia, Velocity, and Dauntless were seated, while Armsmaster stood by a projector.

Jones frowned. "Assault and Battery on their off-shift?"

"They'll receive the briefings when they come in tomorrow morning, Director," Armsmaster replied. "In the meantime, we have important information regarding Stormtiger's capture."

The projector whirred to life, showing an image of an alleyway. A quartet of men were propped against the wall, their heads drooped forward as PRT officers moved in on them. They appeared to be bound by chains, and they all were extensively covered in cuts and bruises. One of them was shirtless, a broken mask in his lap.

"This is how we found them, Director," Armsmaster continued. "Miss Militia and I were on the scene first, along with a squad of PRT troopers. Stormtiger is the one on the far left, while the others are low-level thugs in the Empire's employ."

"What are we looking at, here?" Jones inquired. "A scuffle with the ABB?"

"Apparently not," Miss Militia replied. "There was an eyewitness at the scene. A Ms. Aisha Laborn, age 13. According to her, the three men on the right had cornered her while she was walking home, throwing racial slurs and threatening sexual violence."

Jones gritted his teeth. "Typical Empire gangbangers. I take it they're in custody?"

"The police took care of them once we had Stormtiger."

"Have them brought here; they might have important information about the Empire's activities. Anyway, continue on with your statement."

Miss Militia cleared her throat. "If Ms. Laborn is to be believed, then she was rescued by a new cape, one we haven't seen before. A girl, to be exact. One of our sketch artists produced this after speaking with the witness."

The slide changed, showing an illustration of the cape in question. She looked young, maybe fourteen or fifteen at the most, but was certainly tall for her age. Her costume was clearly homemade, consisting mainly of jeans and a white t-shirt with a sigil on it. A long red cape flowed behind her, and she wore a pair of aviator goggles that were partially hidden by her long black hair.

Jones stepped forward and tapped the sigil. "What's with the 'S'?"

"It's not an 'S', according to Ms. Laborn," Miss Militia replied. "She managed to actually speak with the cape in question, after the thugs were handled with. Apparently, it is meant to represent hope."

"I believe that is due to a research error," another voice said.

Jones turned to the speaker on the table. "Didn't know you were listening in, Dragon."

"Armsmaster consulted with me about the sigil before you arrived, since his own research wasn't producing results," the tinker replied. "I've scanned as many databases as I have access to, but none of them show a symbol like that as one of hope. In fact, that symbol doesn't exist in _any_ database."

"Interesting," Jones murmured, his brow furrowed. "Well, that's not important at the moment, anyway. What are we looking at here, power-wise?"

"A brute, most likely," Armsmaster said. "Mid level, maybe higher. Based on Ms. Laborn's account, she appeared before the goons had any chance to react, then beat them to a pulp in moments. Based on the bruising and broken bones, there was a considerable force behind those blows. The fact that she also took down Stormtiger is testament to her strength as well."

"Flight capabilities?"

"Yet to be determined. She apparently jumped out of sight, but we can't tell if it's genuine flight or just enhanced leaping."

"A potential Alexandria package, then," Jones said. "Definitely a tough one."

"She's also in considerable risk," Armsmaster added. "The E88 won't take this lying down; they've been especially touchy since Lung killed Cricket last month. It would be in her best interests if she were to join the Wards."

"Considering how she bounded out of there, I'm not sure if she's keen on that," Dauntless said. "Some kids want to take it solo when they're first out on the streets. Not saying that I approve, but we can't be too... pushy."

"Good point," Jones said. "She'd definitely make for a powerhouse if she joins; let's see if she decides to come to us first."

"What of the rival gangs?" Armsmaster inquired. "The ABB might try to recruit her; Ms. Laborn didn't specify her ethnicity. If we wait for too long, then it might be too late."

"Or she might just join in with one of the independent hero groups," Jones offered. "You raise a good point, though. I wonder if the Wards themselves would be willing to try and talk to her, if they ever see her. She'd probably relate to them better, and they'd explain the benefits better than us."

"That does sound like a good idea," Miss Militia said. "Of course, I think they should only do it if they volunteer; the situation might turn dangerous for unknown reasons, and I don't want to press-gang them into anything."

"She doesn't seem like a dangerous sort," Jones said. "Still, I agree with your point."

"What name are we giving her, anyway?" Velocity asked. "If she's going to be in our reports, she needs a codename."

"Well, the cape hasn't come up with one for herself, if Ms. Laborn is to be believed," Armsmaster said. "I think we should go with a placeholder name; she can change it if she joins the Wards."

"How about Samaritan?" Dauntless offered. "Goes with the weird 'S' symbol."

Jones shook his head. "That's taken by a Mover in LA, I believe."

"I think we could wait until she comes up with a name for herself," Miss Militia said. "Most capes don't like being given names."

"That sounds like a good idea," Jones declared. "In the meantime, keep an eye out for her; it'd be

"It'd be nice if we got some more info, first," Dauntless piped up. "I wonder what she's doing right now?"

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"C'mon, Sebastian, come down," Alicia whined, reaching out from the window. "It's dark out, and Mom says I can't go outside."

The black longhair looked at her from his perch on a nearby tree branch, and mewed in retort. Settling down, he began to clean himself, as if in open defiance of his owner's request.

The little girl blinked back the tears that threatened to well in her eyes. "Please? Pretty please?"

"Hold on!" another voice exclaimed, from beneath the window. "Don't worry, I'll get him!"

Before Alicia could figure out what was happening, an older girl hopped up onto the tree branch. Her eyes widened when she saw the red cape on the girl's shoulders, and her breath caught as the realization hit her. A superhero had come to rescue Sebastian!

"Don't be scared," the hero said, balancing on the branch as she reached out to grab Sebastian. "C'mon, c'cmon."

Finally, she managed to pick up the kitten, much to his protest, and handed him back to Alicia. The little girl grabbed Sebastian and pressed him close to her chest, ignoring his pleading mewls.

"Thanks Miss Superhero Lady," Alicia said excitedly.

The hero smiled. "Be careful next time you open your window, okay? Longhairs aren't outdoor cats."

"Okay. Please don't tell my mommy."

"Alright, I won't," the hero replied, chuckling. "Now, get to bed; it's late out."

Before Alicia could reply, the caped lady dropped out of sight. She peered over the window ledge, but saw nothing; the hero had already left. Sighing, she stepped back and closed the window, pouting.

"Let's get you ready for bed, Sebastian," she said, hugging the kitten close.

Sebastian merely groaned in reply.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online Message Boards**

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 **Topic: Stormtiger Apprehended by New Cape  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Link is **here**. Apparently, Stormtiger and three thugs got their butts handed to them by some new hero in a homemade costume.

 **(Viewing Page 1 of 1)**

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Something tells me the Empire's pretty salty at the moment.

 **marcobsalazarm** (Veteran Member) (Costume Fanatic)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Any comment on what the costume looked like? I'm pretty curious to see what a new cape would come up with on her first night out.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Apparently she had a red cape and a white shirt with a sigil on it. All the report said.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

It's not everyday you hear about a new cape in the city. What kind of powers are we looking at?

 **IrregularAK** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Mid level brute, I think. She might be an Alexandria Package, but no one's confirmed it yet. She was tough enough to beat up Stormtiger, that's for sure.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

She definitely seems like an independent hero, but is that going to stick? Anyone think she's going to join the Wards?

 **Orex Lock** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

She's that young? Anyway, it'd be cool to have an independent hero for once. Or maybe she could join the New Wave?

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

The team already has Glory Girl as a bruiser, but I don't think they'd mind another. Of course, I think the Wards would be much safer; the Empire's not going to take the loss of one of their bigger guns lying down. They already lost a cape to Lung last month, and it looks like things might explode soon.

 **fuccboi34** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

 _This comment was deleted due to racism and inflammatory remarks._ _Enjoy your one-month ban. -Tin Mother._

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Really? _Really?! Clears throat._ I hope this new cape stays safe; she definitely seems like a good one.

 **(End of Page) (1)**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Topic: Rumors of Ward Transfer?  
** **In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes** **  
**

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Has anyone else heard about it? Since they only have four Wards in BB, they might move one in to help with numbers.

 **(Showing Page 1 of 3)**

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (They Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

I've been reading about it for a few days. Yeah, I think it might also be a bit of PR move on their behalf. Word at the watering hole is that they might move in a Case 53 to help people acclimate to them.

Sounds like a good idea, honestly.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Who's on the roster, anyway?"

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Gallant, Vista, Clockblocker, and Triumph. Triumph's graduating to the Protectorate at the end of the month, around the same time Director Jones is retiring.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

I'm pretty sure I heard something about a tinker also milling about that the PRT wants on the Wards, along with that brute who took down Stormtiger.

Oh, and the Director is retiring? I always liked the jokes he made in PSA's about capes.

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

They might not join, for all we know, and the PRT definitely wants a replacement for Triumph. Based on previous leadership reports, they might bring in that Weld guy.

And yeah, Jones is out at the end of the month. Apparently they're bringing in Deputy Director Piggot from Boston.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Neat. And what was that meme about Weld again?

 **saltyshinji** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

 _This comment has been deleted for inflammatory remarks. Case 53s are people, too. Enjoy your one month ban. -Tin Mother._

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Pretty sure that isn't it.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

FIRST I FIGHT THEM

THEN I BARIUM.

I'M JUST A TIN COPPER WITH A HEART OF GOLD.

I could keep going, guys.

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Please don't.

 **(End of Page) (1, 2, 3)**

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* * *

 **Topic: New Cape Saves Man in Car Crash  
** **In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **soulcookie** (New Member) (Original Poster)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

EXTRA EXTRA! READ ALL ABOUT IT **HERE.**

 **(Showing Page 1 of 1)**

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Well, she's definitely a hero, then. And strong, too.

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

We need to name her, stat!

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Pretty sure the PRT's going to do that soon. Anyway, it's nice to see someone help people for a change instead of beating up other capes.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Didn't you post on the thread about her beating up Stormtiger?

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Details.

 **Reveen The Disappearer** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

She also got my neighbor's cat out of a tree!

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on August 23rd, 2010:

Pics or it didn't happen.

 **(End of Page) (1)**


	4. Arc 2, Part I

**2.01**

The sun was still below the horizon when I finally returned home. It had been a long night, that was for sure. Aside from handling Stormtiger, I had stopped a mugging, saved a man from a car accident, and gotten that little girl's cat out of a tree. I should've felt exhausted, like Dad did after a shift at the Docks, but I didn't. In fact, I felt even livelier, as though I was finally letting loose after so many years of tension.

Hopping up to my window, I crept inside and took off my costume. The cape went first, and I stowed it back in the shoebox. I frowned when I looked at the shirt; the bottom half had been shredded to tatters without my noticing. Strangely enough, the parts that were more skintight had gotten off without a scratch; it had to be a side effect of my powers.

Sighing, I threw the shirt into the trash, making sure that it was out of sight. I could just make another one, and I'd be sure to use a tighter fabric to avoid it getting torn. Maybe I could go for a different color as well, one that complemented the cape and sigil better. Blue could work...

Pulling off my goggles, I grabbed my glasses where I'd left them and put them back on. With a final effect of tying back my hair, I was myself once again.

Once I was sure that all evidence of my night out was hidden away, I plopped down and began to read more of the microfilm Kal-El had sent with me. Only a few minutes passed, however, before I thought back to the rocket. It was still down in the basement, and I found myself wondering what else was inside. There was no way the microfilm had everything there was to know about Krypton; even its absurd amount of information was trivial to what the internet put out.

Silently, I rose from the bed and began to quietly tiptoe down the stairs. It was easy to find the rocket when I got down to the basement, and I pulled it out of its hiding spot. Opening the box had stuffed it in, I noticed that the hull was completely seamless, as though the hatch was never there. I narrowed my eyes, trying to peer through it, but it only became a little translucent, like murky water.

Reaching out, I brushed a hand over the smooth metal of the rocket, and it _reacted_.

It almost blossomed like a flower, peeling back the thick hull to reveal complicated-looking hardware underneath. In the center was a black cube, no bigger than a softball. Each side had a triplet of glowing green circles, connected by thin lines to form an inverted triangle. As soon as I saw it, it began to let out a low, steady hum, as though it was finally coming to life after years of disuse.

"Greetings, Zara Kal-El," the box said.

I blinked a few times, as if doing so would banish the strange sight. The strange cube still persisted, however, and I knew I wasn't dreaming. I took a deep breath, then spoke.

"What are you?"

"I am a semi-sentient computer program, sent along with you to Earth," the cube replied. Its voice was clipped and curt, but not quite mechanical. "In a manner of speaking, I am a subroutine of my original back on Krypton, known as Brainiac."

"You're an AI?" I asked.

"That would imply a degree of sentience that I lack, despite the use of pronouns," 'Brainiac' said. "The original Brainiac was sentient; here, I serve as a data repository with an advanced chatbot buffer. My computing prowess, however, is still orders of magnitude higher than anything produced on your new home planet. My central processing unit is an artificial nerve cluster more complex than human tissue; altogether, it can store forty-five zettabytes of information."

"That's-" I paused, doing the calculation in my head. "That's twenty-two million times the amount of information in the entire Library of Congress."

"Correct. I hold all the knowledge that Krypton ever produced. All the books, the films, the blueprints and historical documents, the artwork, the scientific observations; I am the total repository of two hundred thousand years of Kryptonian civilization, as well as the knowledge of four hundred thousand catalogued planets."

It took more than a few moments for that to settle in. I thought the microfilm was astonishing, but _twenty-two million Library of Congresses worth of information_ was an amount that numbed the mind. I couldn't even _begin_ to imagine how long it'd take for someone to review all of that information, even if they had superhuman processing abilities.

"Okay," I finally said. "Uh, why did you reveal yourself just now?"

"A number of reasons," Brainiac replied. "Firstly, telemetry from the data crystal informed me that you already know of your Kryptonian origins, which means you are prepared to learn more of your former home planet. Secondly, you have the proper genetic profile to access the ship; it is slaved to your conscious command. And thirdly, there are no humans around to witness this; it is up to you to decide whether or not to reveal this information to the world."

I nodded slowly. "Alright, then. I think I can handle this. Tell me, can you make yourself hidden? I don't want you to get discovered."

"Naturally. I can disguise myself from the spectrum humans can see; this will allow you to access me without difficulty, yet avoid detection at the same time. Do you desire such a course of action?"

"Yes."

Something shifted, and the rocket's color became slightly different. It didn't make much difference for me, but I had to remember just how few colors I could see at first, growing up.

"What other courses of action do you desire, Zara Kal-El?"

"Well, first, you can call me Taylor."

"That is the name you were given on Earth, I presume?"

"Yes."

"Very well. What other courses of action do you desire, Taylor?"

"Just stay hidden for a while," I replied. "This is a lot to think over."

"Understood."

Getting up, I headed back upstairs, leaving Brainiac behind. Sunlight streamed in through the windows, sending a tingle up my arm, and I let it soak in for a moment. The sound of creaking bedsprings reached my ears as I did, and I knew Dad was starting to wake up. Smiling, I decided to make him breakfast.

After all, I was in a pretty good mood, so why couldn't I share it with him?

* * *

 **S**

* * *

By the time Dad had gotten downstairs, I had made him a nice plate of pancakes. A wide grin broke out on his face when he saw them, and I could see his salivary glands working into overdrive as the smell wafted over his nostrils.

"You're even more chipper than usual," he said, sitting down at the table. "Good night's sleep?"

I shrugged, pouring myself tea. "Read a nice story on the microfilm. It's... it's weird to know so much, but in a good way. I mean, I don't know how to really describe it."

I didn't like lying to him, but I figured I'd tell him sooner than later. Telling him everything at once would be overwhelming; I needed to give hints and ease him into it.

"You know, I've been talking to some education officials, and you might be able to get into Arcadia," Dad said between bites of pancake. "You certainly have the grades for it."

"That sounds great," I said, smiling. "Emma said she might get in as well; it'd be cool if we managed to go together."

"Speaking of, are you going to hang out with her today? I need you to do some shopping while I'm out at work."

"What do we need?" I asked.

"Oh, just some groceries. Eggs, milk, meat; money's still a bit thin since the pay cut, so we might need to budget a bit more."

I glanced down at my tea, watching the infrared light blooming off it, then looked back up. "I could just get you food."

"Taylor-"

"I don't need to eat, Dad; I just like to. If money's tight, then it'd be a good idea if I cut down on frivolous stuff like that."

"Do you hear yourself? You're talking about going hungry like it's nothing, kiddo."

"Because it is nothing," I replied. "It's been forever since I last felt hungry, even if by a little. Besides, it'd only be for a while, until we're past this."

Dad sighed. "If you feel like you need to eat, eat. I'm not happy with this, but I know how stubborn you can be when you think you're right. And only skip every other day, okay? Can't believe I'm saying this."

I smiled. "I'll be fine, Dad. Besides, we can use the money for better stuff later, like finally fixing the sink."

Dad glanced over at the sink in question, stroking his chin thoughtfully. "Has been a while..."

He sighed again, then got up. "I have to get ready for work, kiddo. I'll leave the list and some money on the counter on the way out; make sure to get it out of the way before you decide to hang out with Emma, okay?"

I nodded. "Okay."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

I waited until Dad had pulled out of the driveway before heading downstairs again. Brainiac was still in the corner of the basement, lights dimmed. To my surprise, it seemed as though the rocket had actually _expanded_ ; it was much wider than how I'd left it.

"Are you, uh, renovating?" I asked.

"If you mean, 'am I altering the surroundings?', then the answer is no. I am simply reallocating preexisting material to improve processing power."

I paused. "Can you actually alter your surroundings?"

"Kryptonian nanotechnology has a wide range of functions, Taylor," Brainiac replied. "I can break down materials to the molecular and atomic levels and reconfigure them into other forms. Depending on the material, conversion rates can vary considerably. Why do you ask?"

"Do you think you could repair a sink?"

"A simple matter, if you give me permission to analyze the materials composing it. Do I have such permission?"

"Yes," I replied. "Don't make it seem too obvious, though."

"I am unsure of what defines 'obvious' in this case. Do you wish for me to simply configure the sink to its undamaged form?"

"Yeah, that."

"Very well, then. Would you also care for me to redirect the house's power to a fusion generator?"

"Uh, I think we should take it one step at a time, here."

"A human idiom, I presume. Regardless, I shall complete your command."

The rocket suddenly began to levitate, despite there being no visible engine, then flittered up the steps. I followed after it, painfully aware that any one of my neighbors could see an alien spacecraft repair my plumbing. Now _that_ would be an awkward situation to explain...

Thankfully, the task was completed in a matter of moments, and the rocket flew back downstairs. I watched it go, then turned to the sink and cautiously turned the handle. Sure enough, there was no leak.

"Dad and I have been trying to fix this for _weeks_ ," I muttered to myself.

I decided to go back down into the basement. The rocket was still widening, the silver metal shifting and changing like putty; I once again found myself in awe of the lost world I had come from.

"What other functions can you perform?" I asked.

"Almost anything you require. I can synthesize materials, or produce laboratory equipment for you to conduct experiments. And, of course, I can provide any information you desire about Krypton."

"Neat," I murmured. "Does that mean you can also synthesize Kryptonian technology?"

"With certain restrictions," Brainiac replied. "For example, you will need to undergo considerable education for anything that could be weaponized; it would be detrimental if you were to accidentally vaporize a city while trying to use a transfer disc."

"Alright, then. Could you wait for a moment?"

Before Brainiac could reply, I returned with my sketchbook. Flipping it open, I presented one of the illustrations to the cube.

"Could you make me a suit out of the same material as my cape? It'd be nice to have something that doesn't tear just because it isn't skintight."

"Very well," Brainiac said. "Would you like any additions to this design? I could incorporate technologies found in many Kryptonian biosuits, though that'd delay completion."

"By how much?"

"It'd take approximately seven Earth days, given the material I have to work with."

"That's okay," I replied, grinning. "I can make do in the meantime."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **2.02**

A few days passed by, and the end of summer drew near. I kept up with the hero work at night, and sometimes during the day; I kept my costume hidden underneath my normal clothes when I went outside. Ever since Stormtiger was taken into custody, things had wound down a little in terms of villain activity, but I still found ways to keep myself busy.

On one of those days, I decided to head to the park. Emma was on a trip to New York, which left me with very little to do otherwise. I still wondered whether or not I should tell her the truth about me, that I was actually from another planet. Part of me felt that I couldn't keep secrets from my best friend, but another part was worried how she'd react if she learned the news.

I decided to brush those thoughts away, if only for the time being.

The sun was already high up as I strolled past the park gates, shining brightly. Most people had to avert their eyes from it, or at least wear sunglasses, lest they get irreparable damage from the intensity of its light. Me? I could've stared into it all day without a worry, and it was actually quite tempting. If I focused my vision just right, I could see gamma rays and x-rays stream out from the core, or the turbulence of the photosphere as storms bigger than the entire world formed. I could even _hear_ the vibrations in the corona if I wanted, a steady hum too low for the human ear to detect.

It shouldn't have been possible. There was no medium for the sound to get across; satellites had to convert video of the ripples into audio for people to hear it, and even that was heavily altered. Yet, in defiance of all logic, I could hear the song of the sun as it was meant to be heard, and it was _beautiful_.

"Excuse me, miss, but are you alright?."

All too soon, I was back to Earth, and I blinked in surprise at the man standing before me. He was tall, taller than me, and had a rather thin frame. His dark skin was weathered and worn, especially around his silvery eyes, and his short hair had a few streaks of grey in it. If I had to guess, I'd say he was in his late fifties and in fairly good shape. His clothes were rather nondescript, and seemed more than a little dated.

"Something wrong?" I asked, fidgeting slightly.

"Just concerned," the man replied. "It's not healthy to look at the sun for too long, young miss."

"Thanks for the concern," I said. "Hey, you look familiar; I think I've seen you on TV before. Are you Director Jones?"

"Former Director; I just retired yesterday," he said, managing a small smile. "Now, I'm just Mr. Jones. And who might you be, young lady? Most people don't recognize me out in public."

"Name's Taylor," I replied. "Nice meeting you, Mr. Jones."

"Likewise," he said, walking past me.

I turned to watch him go, eyes narrowed. There was something _off_ about him, subtly so. He seemed pretty normal, but there were countless little things that just clashed with what I usually saw.

Shrugging, I went on my. I hadn't gotten ten feet, however, before I heard a high-pitched screaming sound behind me, almost painfully loud. Whirling about, I saw Mr. Jones looking at me, a whistle between his teeth. Nearby dogs began to bark at him, while their owners obviously pulled them past us, and I realized he had used a dog whistle to get my attention.

Despite the fact it was eighty degrees out, I felt a chill brush over my spine.

"Don't be alarmed," Jones said, pocketing the whistle. "I just want to talk to you about something."

"How did you-" I began, only for him to silence me with a gesture.

"I know a good path that most people don't walk on, where it's safer to talk. It's your choice, Taylor."

I looked around, then sighed. "Alright."

Jones smiled. "Good. Walk with me."

I did as told, following him along a dirt path that weaved in and out of the trees. He was right; there weren't that many people around, and I found myself relaxing a little bit. Birds chirped as they flew overhead, and I briefly focused the footsteps as ants as they milled about underground unseen.

"So," I began. "How did you guess it was me?"

"That you were the new cape? I was a detective for thirty years before joining the PRT, and a pretty good one. I narrowed down some leads based on the account of the girl you rescued, along with the man you pulled out of that car wreck. It was complete happenstance that I saw you here, and your appearance matched closely with that of the witnesses, so I decided to make a gamble with the dog whistle."

"Why did you have it, anyway?"

"Educated guess," Jones replied. "You were somehow able to detect crimes halfway across the city. Either you had a sense of danger, or you could somehow detect it by hearing or eyesight. I wasn't expecting the whistle to work, but I decided it didn't hurt to try."

A woman jogged by, and we fell silent until she was out of earshot.

"It was pretty risky of you, going out with only a pair of goggles. There's almost an unwritten pact of sorts between heroes and villains, when it comes to finding out about each other's identities. Most don't really try, since it would turn _very_ ugly, but if they think they can get away with it, they'll leap at the opportunity. I've seen that happen a few times in my career, and the results can be haunting."

I frowned. "I'm not afraid of the Empire, if that's what you're saying. And I know you're about to say something about protecting my loved ones, too, right?"

"Didn't need to say it, it seems," Jones said. "So, if you realize the dangers, why just the goggles?"

"It's a bunch of things," I replied, sighing. "I didn't want to look threatening, so that excluded some options, and I didn't want to draw attention by buying materials at a store. I was planning on making something better, but..."

"You heard the thugs threatening Ms. Laborn," Jones finished. "That explains a lot, both in regard to your reasoning and your character. You're a rare type, Taylor. Trust me; I've worked with heroes for ten years, now. There are those in it for fame and fortune, while others joined for personal vendettas against villains. But there are also those who became heroes because they felt it was the right thing to do. I've met a few of those over my career, Legend being most prominent."

"T-thanks," I said, painfully aware that I was blushing. "That's actually really nice of you to say, comparing me to him."

"Don't let it get to your head," Jones chuckled. "Egotism isn't a good trait to have."

His smile disappeared, and I sensed that he was serious again. "You do have to be careful, Taylor. Stormtiger was an impressive catch for a first night out, but there are bigger fish in this pond than him. The E88 has a lot of heavy hitters among their ranks. Kaiser, Purity, Hookwolf, Fenja, Menja, and Allfather himself. They outnumber the local Protectorate by more than two to one. They're vicious, they're tenacious, and they're cruel. I've seen the bodies they leave in their wake when on the warpath, and it sticks with you. Allfather likes to execute minions who've failed him by slowly turning them into pincushions, and that pales to what his son Kaiser does."

We crossed over a small wooden bridge, a creek trickling underneath.

"And that's just the Empire," Jones said. "There is also the ABB. You've probably read up a little on Lung already."

"He gets more powerful the longer he's fighting."

"With no upper limit, to boot. Some speculate that he could go toe to toe with an Endbringer if ramped up enough, and he doesn't get tired. He's not as nasty as Allfather or some of the other Empire capes, but he's even more dangerous in combat. Just last month, he killed Cricket and put Krieg on traction, despite taking on several capes at the same time. He has hundreds of thugs in his employ, and they run criminal enterprises from casinos to drug trafficking to _sexual slavery_. He also has two capes in the gang as well: Oni Lee and Tengu."

"I remember reading about Lee, but Tengu?"

"Recently recruited," Jones replied. "We have recent to suspect that Tengu's a female, most likely in her twenties. Wears a mask to resemble a creature from Japanese folklore. She seems to have a grab bag of powers; enhanced strength, agility, and a variable blaster power. Armsmaster and Dauntless encountered her while busting a drug house near ABB turf."

We fell silent for a few moments. I glanced at him, reading his expression. He wasn't lying or exaggerating, that was for sure, and I began to feel a little nervous.

"Anything else to worry about?" I asked.

"I'm just giving you a heads up, Taylor; I'm not trying to scare you off." Jones let out a long sigh. "I take it the Wards are not on the table?"

"Personal reasons," I said quickly.

"Alright, just checking. Of course, that doesn't mean you can't help them out, and vice versa. The New Wave are independent heroes, and they often team up with the Protectorate when handling big issues."

"But what's a 'big issue' for me?" I asked. "I feel like... like I'm barely beginning to use my power. Dipping a toe into the water, scratching the surface, whatever phrase you want to use. There's so much _more_ I think I can do, but I'm almost afraid to find out."

"That's certainly interesting," Jones murmured. "Most capes tend to know what they can and can't do, right off the bat."

"Guess I'm not like most capes," I said.

Jones frowned, his brow furrowed, but said nothing else.

We came around the halfway point, and began to walk back the way we came. The sun was bearing down even hotter than before, and most of the park goers were leaving for air-conditioning. I didn't mind the heat, and it seemed that Jones didn't, either. Sure, he sweated, but his skin temperature was still rather even.

"Any sagely advice to offer?" I asked, breaking the silence.

"Some," he replied. "You're doing good work, Taylor, but you still need to be careful. Tensions are getting bad between the ABB and E88, and things might explode very soon. Don't be afraid to get help if you need it."

He pulled a card from his pocket, and handed it to me. I took it, noting that it wasn't the PRT number.

"You're becoming a PI?"

"Less stressful than being a Director, and it still lets me do some good in the city. I still have connections with the PRT and Protectorate; I could act as mediator if you ever need help, and I could always provide some badly-needed tact for you."

"Thanks," I said, pocketing the card.

We arrived where we had started. Jones glanced at his watch, then smiled at me.

"I have to go," he said. "First customer. Good luck, Taylor."

"Something tells me I'll need it."

He turned to leave, then paused. "Almost forgot. Your codename, decided by the PRT? They're calling you 'Supergirl'."

"Supergirl?" I asked, exasperated. " _Really_?"

"It's just a placeholder name. If you want, I could probably get them to change it to Superwoman, make it more mature sounding."

"Please do. I can't believe they gave me that name."

"Alright, then. Until next time."

With that, Jones headed for the gate. I watched him go, then began the long walk back home.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **2.03**

Another night passed, in which I stopped two more muggings and an attempted break in. The E88 and ABB seemed to be keeping their activities quiet, at least for the time being, and I found myself wondering when it would end. Ex-Director Jones seemed incredibly wary of the whole thing, and I was inclined to believe what he said.

At the same time, I could feel myself growing faster as I zipped about the city with each passing day; sometimes I wondered if my feet were even touching the ground. When Kal-El had said I would only get stronger as I pushed my limits, I didn't expect it to be so _fast._ I thought it'd be a gradual process, almost in tune with natural development as I got older, not a sharp increase.

I had that in mind when I returned home, silently hopping up to my window. Dad was still sleeping, his heartbeat even, and I knew it'd be another hour or two before he was up. Taking off my costume, I put it back into its hiding spot and sat on my bed, thinking. The moon was up, shining brightly, and it casted a silvery tinge to everything.

Brainiac was still in the basement, working on my costume, and I decided to head down to check up on his progress. The stairs creaked a little as I walked down the steps, and I made a mental note to try and fix that when I had the chance.

The rocket was still splayed open, and I could see that Brainiac had produced a machine of some sort, most likely by reallocating some of the strange material of the hull. Hundreds of tiny spidery arms were moving in a flurry, weaving together tiny threads as they were spat out of the main body of the machine. Taking a closer look, I saw that the thread itself was composed of intricate machinery, like something out of a science fiction novel.

"Returning from another successful jaunt, I presume?" Brainiac inquired.

"Pretty much, yeah," I replied. "How's work on the uniform going?"

"Smoothly. I've acquired material from the soil beneath the house, as well as small metal scrapings that wouldn't be missed."

"How long until the suit's done? You said one week, and it's been longer than that."

"That was before I took full stock of my surroundings. Now, I can include even more Kryptonian technology into the uniform, such as biofeedback sensors and communications, which will entail an extra four days."

"Guess I should've been clearer," I sighed.

"Do you want me to complete the suit without said technologies?" Braniac asked.

"No; you can go ahead with that. Just make sure that it doesn't take any longer than four days."

"Very well."

The machines continued their work, and I headed back upstairs to the kitchen. As I went to head up to my room, however, I paused. The night was still dark, and Dad usually didn't get up until an hour after sunrise. I still had a while to myself, and I decided to get some fresh air while I weighed my options.

Silently, I opened the door and stepped outside. The neighborhood was still quiet, relatively speaking; there was no bustle of people moving around, but the sounds of nature were still there. My senses really made peaceful silences impossible; it's hard to enjoy a silent night when you can hear individual blades of grass rustle in the wind.

I glanced up at the moon. It was no longer full, but the visible spectrum only took up a small chunk of my vision. The Apollo sites were always breathtaking to look at; I always enjoyed looking at the first footprint left by Neil Armstrong. It was faded somewhat, due to the take-off, and one of Aldrin's footprints criss-crossed it, but it was still something to behold.

What would it be like to visit there? To actually walk on the surface of the moon, or swim among the stars. There were so many of them, hundreds of millions of billions of them, and to think of the wonders they could hold. Maybe, due to light-speed lag, I could even see the star that Krypton once circled...

It was around then I realized my feet were no longer touching the ground.

I looked down, and saw that I was floating a few feet over the yard. It was so subtle, I hadn't even felt it; it was like a gentle force was pulling on every atom of my body. A gentle breeze ruffled my hair, but I stayed put, like a rock in a stream. A tingle ran up my spine as I looked around, tears threatening to well in my eyes.

 _I could fly_.

"Oh my god," I breathed. "I can fly. I can _fly_."

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. _Focus_. Just zipping off into the sky, however badly I wanted it, wasn't the smart course of action. That could come later, once I figured out how to get down.

Thankfully, it proved easier than I thought. I wanted myself down on the ground, and down I went, gently lowering to the ground. I looked around, making sure no one was looking, then I went up again. It was deceptively easy, once I got the hang of it, but I still made myself give it a few practice runs. I flew around the house, then over it, and finally landed back on the lawn.

My heart pounded against my ribs as I headed back inside, a rush of exhilaration in my veins. I managed to get to my room before the tears began to flow, and I had to stifle an excited squeal as I sat back in bed.

"I can fly," I whispered again. "H-how did I do that?"

Maybe Brainiac had the answer, but that could wait. The sun was finally rising, illuminating the room and banishing the night. Already Dad was stirring; he must've had a good night's rest if he was waking up earlier than usual.

I got up again and went to make breakfast, a huge grin on my face.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was a shame I had only one last day of summer vacation, but _what a day_. The weather was fantastic, with only a few puffy clouds in the hazy blue sky, and the sun felt wonderful on my skin as I headed outside. Dad was already at work, and Emma was still on her trip, leaving me with a lot of free time.

I weighed my options for the day. Dad left me a small amount of money for the day, and I considered going to see a movie, or maybe the local zoo. The museum was doing a special at the Planetarium, and it was rather tempting. Sure, I could've just peeked inside from miles away, but where was the fun in that?

As I began to walk down the street, however, I froze at the sound of distant gunfire. Narrowing my eyes, I turned to the source of the noise, peering through until I saw what was going on.

It seemed that there was a scuffle going on near the Docks, between E88 and ABB thugs. There seemed to be a dozen on each side, a handful of them with guns, but there were other figures that drew my attention. Capes, to be exact; the fight was initially bigger than I originally thought, and that couldn't end well.

On the Empire's side, there was a veritable hulk of whirling blades and hooks, bigger than a car. That had to be Hookwolf, one of the major bruisers among their ranks. He appeared to have just arrived on the scene, but was already rushing into the thick of it.

One the ABB side, there was a tall woman covered in thick black clothing, wearing a stylized red mask that seemed almost birdlike. Peering underneath, I saw a rather plain face, most likely of Japanese descent. Tengu, the cape Jones had told me about.

As I looked closer, I saw there were two more capes, hiding behind a dumpster in a nearby ally while E88 thugs took potshots at them. One wore a white costume with light armor built into it, covered in animated clock faces, and I realized he had to be Clockblocker. The other was a teenaged boy that appeared to be made out of metal; aside from a pair of pants, he wore nothing to hide his muscular frame.

There were two Wards caught in the crossfire, and they were in danger. Hookwolf alone had a bodycount longer than my arm, and I had a feeling Tengu was no slouch, either. I thought back to Jones's warning, that I could be rushing into situations too dangerous. Maybe he was right; maybe I would only get hurt if I jumped into this one.

Then, I unbuttoned my shirt, revealing the sigil underneath.

In a flash, I was in my full uniform. Willing it so, I took to the air like a rocket, zipping to the confrontation.

I wasn't going to let my fears get people killed, not when I could do something about it.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Clockblocker and the metal Ward didn't realize I'd landed behind them until I cleared my throat. They turned at once, visibly tense, and I raised my hands defensively.

"Saw you were in trouble, and I decided to help. Do you have a battle plan yet?"

"Not dying is a good one," Clockblocker said.

The metal Ward shot him a look, then turned back to me. "We're waiting for backup from the Protectorate, but they were busy with more turf fights near the Docks. It might be ten minutes before they arrive, so we need to make a move."

"We can make it soon," I said. "The three guys pinning you down just ran out of ammo."

Sure enough, the dumpster stopped ringing with the impact of bullets, and the sound of clicking reached my ears. Hidden behind his mask, Clockblocker's mouth opened, as if to say something, then closed again.

"They're definitely dumber than the ones down in Boston," the metal Ward grunted. "New cape, you're with me. Clock, stay low and follow after us. Freeze anyone who's disabled or disarmed, especially wounded. There's plenty of cover you can freeze as well."

"Right, got it," Clockblocker said.

"Let's go."

The metal Ward darted to the side, coming around the dumpster, and I hopped over at the thugs. I caught one in the chin before he had time to react, then shoved him into another. The second thug tried to disentangle himself from his buddy, only to get a kick to the face for his efforts. Out of the side of my eye, I saw the metal Ward take down the third thug, his arm transformed into a club as he swept the goon's legs out.

"Good job," he said. "More coming up."

"On it," I said.

I sprinted ahead, entering the backlot where the main fight was going on. Four thugs on both sides were down in half as many seconds as I darted back and forth, taking them out with single hits. A bullet clipped me in the shoulder and fell to the ground, crumpled, while a trio ended up sticking to the metal Ward as he dashed into the fray. He wasn't as fast as me, but he could certainly take a hit and dish them out.

In the middle of the scuffle, Hookwolf and Tengu were fighting. The ABB cape had leapt onto a fire escape, her hands suffused with bright blue light, and was taking potshots at her foe. Hookwolf didn't seem to mind them much; each blast took out a few blades or hooks, but they could be easily replaced. Peering closer, I saw that they were coming from a fleshy core in the center. His real body?

Swiping a massive 'paw', Hookwolf took out the fire escape. Tengu jumped to the ground, still firing, and backed away. An E88 thug charged at her, wielding a club, only to be casually backhanded into a nearby wall.

I glanced at the metal Ward. "How do we go about this?"

"I'm not sure about the blaster," he replied. "She might be able to give me a lot of trouble. Hookwolf... not sure how our powers would interact."

"How about we just wing it, then," I said.

Before he could say anything, I went on the move. There was an abandoned car against one of the walls, red with rust, and I hoisted it over my head. It felt light in my hands, surprisingly so, and I decided to use it as a battering ram as I charged. Hookwolf finally took notice of me, only for the car to smash into his side, shattering dozens of blades as he was forced back.

Pulling back, I smashed the car into Hookwolf again, crumpling the entire front half of it. Before I could do it a third time, however, Tengu blasted me. A ball of blue light struck my side, washing over me like water, and detonated in a flash. It didn't hurt, but it was enough to make me let go of the car.

I turned to Tengu, just in time to receive another blast to the chest. I skidded back, heels digging furrows in the asphalt, then charged. Tengu tried to fire again, but I beat her to the punch, catching her in a tackle. She lashed out with a kick to my stomach, forcing me off, and prepared to fire another blast.

That was when the metal Ward shoulder-decked her into the wall, several bricks shaking loose with the impact. Tengu caught him in the chest with another ball of light, but it only served to make his skin a dull orange, infrared flaring from the surface. Switching tactics, she head-butted him, and that was enough to make him break his grip.

I stepped in before she could follow up, however, and decked her across the chin with enough force to break her mask. She skidded back, groaning weakly, and that was that. The metal Ward stepped forward and caught her in plastic cuffs of some kind, then stood up, dusting his hands.

"One down," he said.

There was a crashing sound behind us, and I turned to see that Hookwolf was struggling to get free. Clockblocker had come while we were busy and froze the car, but there were other avenues of escape. Hookwolf scooted out from under the car, sacrificing several of his barbs, then began to scramble over it to get back into the fray.

I wasn't having any of it. Before anyone could react, I flew right at him, knocking him down. He tried to get back up, but I pressed him into the ground, refusing to grant him a moment's reprieve. Taking handfuls of his hooks, I began to furiously pull them out, digging deeper and deeper. Hookwolf tried to grow more, but I was faster. In a matter of seconds, I was already close to the core.

That was when Hookwolf began to change back. His blades and hooks retracted into his core, which was already taking a roughly humanoid form, and I could see some of the larger features of his face returning. In a few seconds, he was human once more, a drained look on his face.

Before he could do anything, whether to run or try and fight again, Clockblocker dashed forward and froze him. It was strange, seeing the time-stop power in effect; there was definitely something _weird_ going on.

The metal Ward walked over, a cellphone in hand and Tengu in the other. There were bits of scrap and junk attached to him, slowly being absorbed into his body, and already his chest had cooled back to normal. With nary a grunt, he dropped the cape by Hookwolf's frozen form, and Clockblocker froze her as well.

"Well, I definitely wasn't expecting this," Clockblocker said, rubbing the back of his head. "Damn."

"Two big names in one fight," I said. "I'd call this a major win."

"I'd agree," the metal guy said. "I'll call Director Piggot and inform her of what happened."

"So, what about you?" Clockblocker asked, gesturing to me. "Piggot wanted you in the Wards, and she's a lot pushier than Jones was. I mean, I'm not pushy; I'm just glad you saved our butts back there."

"No problem," I replied. "Just glad I could help."

"Likewise," the metal Ward smiled, offering his hand. "I'm Weld."

I shook his hand, returning the smile. His skin was cool to the touch, and he had a pretty firm grip. Studying him closely, I saw that he was metal all the way down; his bones, organs, and blood were all made of various alloys and pure elements.

"Haven't seen you around," I said. "Are you new?"

"Just transferred in from Boston two days ago," Weld replied. "Still adjusting to here. Anyway, what should I call you?"

"Apparently, I'm being called Superwoman by the PRT," I said.

"Probably has something to do with the big 'S' on your chest," Clockblocker said.

I sighed. "I've told it a bunch of times, and I'm getting pretty tired explaining. It's _not_ an 'S'. It's a symbol that means 'hope'."

"Then why not put an 'H'?"

"Because that's-" I clicked my jaw shut, seething. "It's not an 'S', and that's final."

"Well, regardless, it's not the worst name," Weld piped up, shooting a look at Clockblocker. "Has a nice ring to it."

"Thanks," I replied, blushing a little.

"Now, I'm not going to push anything, either, but you might want to rethink your mask," Weld said.

"Why's that?"

Sighing, he reached forward and wiped a finger down the bridge of my nose. Holding it up, I saw it was covered in soot.

"Your goggles got burnt off."

"Oh," I said sheepishly, painfully aware that I was blushing. "Well, uh, thanks for that."

Weld chuckled. "No problem. Even if you don't want to join, I hope to work with you again."

"Me too," I said. "Anyway, I, uh, have to go."

"We can handle the rest," Weld said. "Clockblocker can keep them frozen until the PRT arrives."

"Yeah, because I _love_ having to touch a greasy neo-nazi until help arrives," Clockblocker muttered. "See you around, Hopewoman."

"Never going to let up on that, huh?"

"Nope."

Stepping back with a sigh, I took to the air, leaving them below as I began to head back home. Clockblocker half-heartedly waved at me, and Weld offered another smile. Already, I could see PRT vans converging on their position, along with Armsmaster on his motorcycle.

Both big gangs knocked down a peg, and it seemed I made two friends in the Wards. Not a bad way to spend my last day of summer, all things considered.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Later that night, I found myself looking in the mirror.

The goggles wouldn't cut it anymore; I guess they stuck out too much to be protected. I could ask Brainiac to manufacture some more, using Kryptonian materials, but that'd take time away from making the rest of my costume. The delay was bad enough, and I didn't want to exacerbate it.

Besides... I could feel myself getting stronger. _Much_ stronger. Kal-El said my powers would come from the sun, and I found myself wondering if there was a cap to that. If I was so strong after a few days as a cape, what would I be like a year from now? What about when I was an adult? I had just discovered flight; what other powers might I develop?

If the truth ever got out, that I was an alien, the sole survivor of a long-dead super-civilization, then people might be afraid of me. They might see me not as a hero, but a distant alien with god-like powers. I needed them to trust me, to see that I was just here to help.

I looked down at my glasses. They were a memento, more than anything else; a reminder of Mom. They could be more than that, however, if I gave it more thought.

My mask would be what I wore when I _wasn't_ out there.

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Two, Part I: Truth, Justice, and Freedom_**


	5. Interlude - W

The meeting room was silent when Weld walked inside. It was to be expected, considering that it was eleven at night; most of the other capes were already back home or finishing up their patrol shifts. The only ones at the table were Armsmaster, Clockblocker, and Director Piggot.

Silently, he sat down next to Clockblocker, his specially-reinforced chair creaking beneath his six-hundred pound body. There was a pad of paper waiting for him, along with a custom PRT pen without any metal bits. It was a nice courtesy, especially considering how hard it could be to adjust to a new base.

Piggot looked up from her own notes. "Good to see you've finally arrived, Weld."

"Likewise, ma'am," he replied. "May I ask why you called Clockblocker and I?"

"We're here to review your altercation with Hookwolf and Tengu," Piggot replied.

"Ma'am, Clockblocker was only following orders when I decided to go on the offensive-" Weld began, only to be silenced when Piggot raised a hand.

"Disciplinary action will be discussed later regarding that reckless action. It paid off, but it was a gamble that shouldn't have been made."

Weld nodded. "Understood, ma'am."

Piggot jotted something down in her notes. "Good. Now, we're mainly here to discuss the new cape that helped you and Clockblocker, this so-called 'Superwoman'. We've only had a few good sightings of her; she seems to shy away whenever the PRT or police respond to an issue. Tell me, what was your impression of her?"

"Impression, ma'am?"

"Appearance, personality; those sort of things. It's my job to have information on capes in the city, whether they be hero, villain, or rogue."

"Well, she was rather tall," Weld said, leaning back in his seat. "Taller than Clockblocker, but shorter than me. Pale skin, _very_ pale skin, black hair. She kept it loose, which helped to hide some of her face. Her costume was definitely homemade, but not shabby, either."

"We already got that much about her," Piggot interrupted. "Anything else?"

"Her eyes were bright blue. I'm not talking about normal bright blue, either; they were unnaturally blue, and they definitely weren't contacts. I only noticed after her goggles were burnt off."

"Burnt off?"

"She took a hit from Tengu," Weld replied. "Several, actually."

"I can vouch for that," Clockblocker added. "Before that, Tengu was taking chunks out of Hookwolf, but Superwoman didn't get scratched by the hit."

"Considering what we know about Hookwolf and Tengu, that's quite impressive," Armsmaster murmured. "She seems to be tougher than we originally thought."

"She was fast, too," Weld said. "When she was fighting the non-powered thugs, I could barely register her moving. She could also fly at similar speed."

"Fly? She didn't show such a capability beforehand," Armsmaster said. "Previous accounts said she could only leap large distances."

"She was definitely flying, sir."

"So, she's a flier who can move at high speeds and possesses high levels of strength and endurance," Piggot said. "Strong enough to use a car as a battering ram on Hookwolf, as well as take Tengu out of commission."

"Uh, I'm pretty sure she had other powers, too," added Clockblocker. "When Weld and I were getting pinned down, she was able to tell when the guys were out of ammo. I'm not sure if it was combat precog or just enhanced senses."

"A thinker as well?" Piggot made a furious scribble in her notebook. "Very interesting. Now, what are we looking at in terms of personality?"

"Friendly," Weld replied. "Seemed to be concerned for us, and was willing to help us out. Polite as well."

"Total dork," Clockblocker said. "She's like one of those cheery geeks, except with ridiculous superpowers."

"Did you inquire about her possibly joining the Wards?" Piggot inquired, shooting a small glare at Clockblocker.

"We did, ma'am," Weld said. "She politely declined."

"I see." Piggot shut her notebook and leaned her prodigious bulk forward. "So, we've covered Superwoman. Now, let's get to the issue about your actions in the altercation."

"Shit," Clockblocker muttered.

"Clockblocker and I contacted the Protectorate before doing anything, ma'am," Weld said, shifting in his seat. "We planned on laying low until they arrived, but the E88 noticed us and pinned us down with gunfire."

"They did contact us, Director," said Armsmaster. "It is standard protocol in these situations."

"Yes, and they could've simply waited for you to arrive," Piggot retorted. "Clockblocker, your power has been, so far, inviolable. You could've protected Weld and yourself with ease, yet you both decided to charge into the thick of things."

"They could've had grenades," Clockblocker protested. "There was no way to put a protective roof over Weld and I; any grenade toss would've been like shooting monkeys in a barrel."

"So the solution was to charge into enemy gunfire?"

"That was my decision to make," Weld said. "Besides, Superwoman confirmed that the thugs were out of ammo."

"Superwoman is also an independent; there was no telling if she was trustworthy," Piggot shot back. "Consider yourself lucky she appears to be on the side of law and order."

Weld bowed his head. "Yes, ma'am."

"You're the leader of the Wards, now that Triumph has graduated. Responsibility is an important part of leadership. Not just for yourself, but for your teammates."

"Understood."

Piggot leaned back in her seat. "I'm docking half your weekly allowance. Clockblocker, I'm docking a quarter."

"Loud and clear," Clockblocker sighed.

"Good." Piggot heaved out of her seat. "I hope you've learned from this, both of you."

With that, she waddled out of the room, Armsmaster following after her. Weld waited until they were out of sight before leaning back into his seat with a hearty sigh.

"Damn, what a drill sergeant," Clockblocker muttered, taking off his helmet. "Why don't _you_ try and cover that lard ass of yours?"

"Was your previous Director that strict?"

"Jones? Nah; he was a cool guy. Some of the older capes said he was a bit soft, but I liked him. Every once in a while, he'd talk to us about how our days were going, and he sounded like he actually _cared_ , you know? He'd probably have punished us the same way, but he wouldn't have come off like a dick, weird as it sounds."

"Never had him as a Director, but I met him before," Weld said. "He was actually part of the PRT team that found me in the junkyard. One of the few who didn't react badly when they saw me shamble forward, all covered in junk. Big speaker for accepting Case 53s, too; I wouldn't be surprised if I'm here because of him."

"If that's the case, doesn't that mean he was only Director for a few years?" Clockblocker asked. "That's weird."

"He told me he had trouble spending too much time in one job. Wanted to try all sorts of new experiences."

"Huh." Clockblocker rose from his seat, stretching. "I'm heading home. See you later."

"Good night, Dennis."

The redhead cape walked out of the room. Weld sighed, then rose to his feet, taking the notepad with him. He made sure not to touch the metal doorframe as he left the meeting room, and began to walk to his quarters. A few PRT officers passed him in the hall; only one of them didn't stare. He was used to it, after so long, but it could weigh down on him at times.

Stepping into his quarters, he deposited the notepad on his desk before sitting down at the computer. Sleep was unknown to him, and he took up the space instead with a large bookcase. Posters of bands and orchestras adorned the walls, and he had a large box of records by the door.

There were a few more hours until his next shift, and he decided to use that time to relax and do some research. Putting on a set of headphones, he began to play some Bach while he began to type on the computer. It was a custom job, with no metal on the casing or keyboard, but he still had to be careful with thumb drives.

He decided to hit PHO first, to see what they had on Superwoman.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

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 **Topic: Hookwolf and Tengu Apprehended in Big Brawl  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Link is **here _._** Looks like two big villains were actually apprehended by two Wards: Clockblocker and newcomer Weld. Apparently the new cape joined in to help, and the PRT has started calling her Superwoman.

 **(Viewing Page 1 of 1)**

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Huh. Pretty cool, if you ask me.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Man, Weld is pretty fucking metal, amirite?

 **marcobsalazarm** (Veteran Member) (Costume Fanatic)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

That pun was bad, and you should feel bad.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Ooooh, the PRT just released their classification on Superwoman! Lemme see here... Brute 7 makes sense, so does Mover 6...

Wait, Thinker 1? How the hell does that work?

 **accelpoeration** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Obviously, the PRT knows something that we don't. To the speculation page!

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Man, Weld's had his first fight in the city, and everyone's just focusing on Superwoman... :(

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Well, we already know and like Weld. Superwoman's unknown, mysterious...

 **marcobsalazarm** (Veteran Member) (Costume Fanatic)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Hard to be mysterious when she has a giant 'S' on her chest, unless the PRT sketches are inaccurate. What does it even stand for?

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Superwoman, of course :p

 **Weld** (Verified Cape)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

According to her, it means hope. And that's all I can say without getting in hot water.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

You grace us with your presence. And thanks for the info, even if my cursory searches pull up no results.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Shit :0. I didn't mean those metal puns, honestly...

 **Weld** (Verified Cape)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

I didn't zinc so.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

You... you actually acknowledged the meme. Good to see you have a sense of humor about it.

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

I think we just made PHO history...

 **(End of Page)**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Topic: Superwoman  
In: Boards ****► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2011:

So, I decided to make a thread for discussion about BB's newest hero. Despite only a week on the scene, she's made quite the splash in our little pond. Dozens of crimes and emergencies handled, and three villains in custody due to her. Feel free to post theories and speculation about her powers.

 **(Showing Page 1 of 1)**

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Definitely a high-power Alexandria package, with some other stuff thrown in. The costume's interesting, mainly that weird sigil she has on her chest. I've been looking it up, but found nothing on it. Nada. Zilch. It's like she pulled the whole thing out of thin air.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Yeah, why is that? I mean, why fake a sigil like that and give it a false meaning? Or is it _so_ obscure, that only the most dedicated historian can find it?

 **bogan69** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

 _This comment has been deleted due to inflammatory remarks. No one has postulated an Islamic_ _origin for the sigil, and insulting the religion will get you nowhere. Enjoy your one month ban - Tin Mother._

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Get the hell out of the thread.

Anyway... maybe she's a space alien? /jk.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

I remember when people used to say that was the case for Scion; thank god that crackpot theory was thrown out. Though, she might have gotten it from Earth Aleph.

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Really doubt it, considering that Scion's arrival is the divergence point between our Earths. Doesn't rule out an alternate Earth, though; maybe she somehow found another one, more different from ours?

Still have to take Occam's Razor into account, though. I say she pulled it out of thin air.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

If she did, then why? Makes no sense.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 1st, 2010:

Maybe we'll find out, eventually.

 **(End of Page)**

* * *

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* * *

Looked like they were just as clueless as he was.

Weld frowned. That sigil looked awfully like an 'S', but there were subtle differences in the shape, enough to draw his attention. It had almost reminded him of a coiled serpent, straining to break free of the diamond around it.

Sighing, he signed off the computer and leaned back into his chair, listening deeply to the music. Taste was a phantom of what it should have been, and his metal glands made it hard to enjoy most other sensations, but the impact of music was not diminished. Sometimes, he could spend hours on end playing songs on his headphones; he enjoyed just about any genre, and there was plenty to pick from.

It was only when his alarm beeped that he realized morning had come. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was half-past six. That left him with another fifty-five minutes until school began. According to the memo Piggot had given him two days prior, he would be enrolled at Arcadia full-time; his appearance alone would draw suspicion to the other Wards if he left with them, so the co-op program was out.

Getting up from his seat, he grabbed the nondescript backpack he'd been given and slung it over his shoulder. The zippers were made of plastic, thankfully, and the pack itself was a heavy-duty fabric; they had put a lot of thought into making him comfortable.

Securing the bag, he exited his quarters and made his way down the hall, to the parking lot. There was a car waiting for him, a cheap Saturn meant to avoid attention, and the plastic exterior meant he wouldn't have difficulty opening the door. The driver gave him a small nod as he sat in the back, then pressed the accelerator with a jerk.

It was a long drive, considering that Arcadia was in the suburbs, and he took the time to watch the skyline of the city. Brockton Bay was smaller than Boston, that was for sure, and it felt more... _decrepit_. A lot of the buildings were abandoned and covered in graffiti, and the docks might as well have been a heap of rust. At the same time, however, there were a few new skyscrapers standing in the downtown area, which reminded him a lot of Boston.

The car finally rolled to a halt, and he realized he was at Arcadia. Nodding at the driver, he stepped out, and the car sped away.

Taking a deep breath, he strolled forward.

Even after two years, he had never fully gotten used to people staring at him. The halls of Arcadia were bustling with students, but they parted around him as he walked to class, like Moses with the Red Sea. Many began to whisper amongst themselves, and a few pointed. It was to be expected, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

Finally, he arrived at class. The teacher wasn't in yet, which gave him some time to prepare his notes. There were already a few students seated, chattering amongst themselves, but they fell silent as he sat down at the front. He ignored them and unzipped his backpack, producing the notepad and a pencil. He couldn't even use most notebooks, considering that his hands would stick to the metal of their spiral.

More students piled into the classroom, taking up any seats that weren't immediately next to him. It was probably for the best; he wryly recalled an incident back in Boston, when a girl's bracelet got stuck to his ear when she passed him by. Looking down at his notepad, he began to fill in the date and class; organization was important in school.

"Is this seat taken?"

He looked up. A lanky girl was standing close by, shifting nervously. Her fashion sense was... different, to say the least. She wore a pair of baggy jeans, along with a green sweatshirt two sizes too large, even for her tall frame. Her long and curly black hair was tied into pigtails, and a thick pair of glasses rested on a sharp nose to cover her blue eyes.

Weld blinked. "Uh, the seat's not taken."

"Thanks," the girl said, her voice high-pitched. "Most of the other seats are taken, and this is close to the door."

She sat down, unslinging her backpack. Pulling out her notebook, she accidentally fumbled and dropped it on the floor. Giggling sheepishly, she grabbed it and glanced at Weld.

"Sorry, bit nervous. I'm new here, and my friend couldn't come with me."

"Don't worry," Weld said. "Everyone's nervous on their first day, no exception."

The girl smiled, revealing metal braces. "T-thanks. You must be nervous, too."

Weld shrugged. "I'm mainly just bothered that I have to be here. Most of the kids hear look at me like I came from another planet."

A giggle. "Oh, they're like that with anybody that's even a little different. You should've heard the stuff they said about me; girls can be really nasty."

"You don't seem like it." Weld smiled, offering his hand. "I'm Weld."

After a moment's hesitation, the girl shook it, her grip surprisingly firm.

"I'm Taylor," she said. "Taylor Hebert."

"Nice to meet you, Taylor."

The teacher walked in, and he turned to face the front of the class. Taylor did the same, slouching in her seat. Weld glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, thinking. For some reason, there was something _awfully_ familiar about her, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Something told him he'd figure it out, eventually.


	6. Arc 2, Part II

**2.04**

Like the other high-schools, Arcadia had lunch for an hour. The students loved it; they had time to go home and eat with their family, or to read and study after quickly finishing their meals. For someone who didn't need to eat, however, and who could complete homework in speeds that would beggar belief, an hour left me with little to do.

It also seemed to leave Weld with virtually nothing to do. As far as I could tell, he didn't eat. Instead, he spent the time listening to music on earphones, his head gently bobbing with the rhythm. Tuning in, I noted he was listening to twenties-era jazz; Duke Ellington, to be exact.

He didn't seem to notice me approaching until my shadow fell over the table. Glancing up, he pulled off the headphones and offered a light smile. Despite his metal form, his features were quite attractive.

"Can I sit with you?" I asked. "I don't know anyone here, and I've gotten a few glares."

"Sure," he replied, putting the headphones back on.

Sitting down, I pulled out a book on learning Mandarin. Even growing up, it was never difficult to learn new things; I managed to master calculus and differentiation before I entered middle-school. Whether it had something to do with my powers, or my nature as an alien, I didn't know.

Flipping the book open, I began to read. A few glances at each word, as well as silently mouthing them to the pronunciation guide, and they were forever etched into my brain. I had often considered just going to the library and reading everything in it, but that'd have drawn unwanted attention. Still, I'd already gotten a handle on a few languages, such as Spanish and Portuguese.

I was about halfway through when I heard Weld say, "Mandarin, huh?"

Shutting the book, I glanced up at him. He'd taken off the headphones and stuffed them back into his bag, and was now studying me intently. It was almost as if he was trying to make sense of the strange girl before him, and I suddenly wondered if he had seen past my disguise.

"G-got curious," I replied. "Opens up a lot of jobs in the city. Medical, business, that kind of stuff."

"I'd tried to learn some new languages, but they never stuck with me," Weld said. "Math and English are where I'm good at. Same goes for parahuman classes."

"Excited for the class they're doing in history next semester?"

"I've already read the subject material. I don't sleep, so I have a lot of spare time to study and listen to music."

He didn't sleep? It made sense, I guess, though even most parahumans still needed to rest. It seemed there was a lot we had in common, more than I originally thought.

"What music do you listen to?" I asked.

"Just about any genre, really. Pop, jazz, classical, rock; if you can name it, I've probably listened to it."

I smiled. "I like most genres, too. I might even know a few you don't."

Weld chuckled. "That'd be the day. I'd like to hear what you listen to, though."

"I don't carry tapes on me, sorry," I replied. "I might be able to bring one tomorrow, though."

"Be my guest," Weld said. "You wouldn't happen to know any good local stores, would you? I'm a fan of vinyl; it doesn't stick to my hands."

"Yeah, I could show you around."

"Thanks, that'd be nice." He paused, then leaned forward. "You know, this is a pleasant surprise."

I furrowed my brow. "What is?"

"A normal conversation. I mean, a conversation about normal stuff, not about work or... you know what I mean. Not once have you said anything about how I look, or about the fact I'm a cape. You've been talking to me like... like I'm normal."

"Well, I just kinda imagined you'd be tired of that," I replied, shrugging. "I didn't want to be rude or anything."

"I appreciate it, Taylor," Weld said. "So, tell me about yourself. Have you lived here long?"

"As long as I can remember. I grew up in the same house, never moving; Brockton Bay's in my blood. What about you?"

"Me?" Weld frowned. "Can't really say much, I guess. In fact, I only remember the past four or five years; that was when I was found."

"Found?" I asked.

"I don't really like to talk about it. I'm a Case 53; it's what they call capes whose power radically changed their body and wiped their mind clean. Woke up in a junkyard with no memory of what happened, or even who I was."

"T-that sounds awful," I said. "You don't remember anything? Your name, where you're from?"

"Nothing. Doesn't really bother me as much as you think; I was taken in and raised well while they tried to figure out what happened. After a few months, I joined the Boston Wards, got good marks. When the higher-ups heard about how bad things were getting in this city, they felt I'd make a good transfer."

The lunch bell rang, and we got up from our seats. Weld slung his backpack over his shoulder and smiled at me.

"It was nice talking to you, Taylor. See you tomorrow, same time?"

I smiled back. "That s-sounds nice. And I'll bring some tapes for you."

Weld chuckled. "Sounds good."

Brushing past me, he strolled to his class. I watched him go, then let out a sigh of relief. Despite talking to him for nearly an hour, he hadn't seen through the disguise. I wondered how much it had to do with the fact that people only saw what they _wanted_ to see, and how much had to do with the effectiveness of the actual disguise.

I still didn't know why I promised to bring new music. It was spur of the moment, a rash decision; what music could I bring that he hadn't heard before?

With that in mind, I went to class.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You desire for me to transcribe Kryptonian music?" Brainiac asked.

I nodded. "Is there a problem with that?"

"No; it would be a simple matter to transcribe the necessary data onto one of the primitive tapes you have brought. I simply inquire as to the purpose, when I could just play the music for you."

I pulled up a chair and sat down, studying the rocket. If I peered hard enough, I could see the near-finished costume being completed within the machines Brainiac had erected. By tomorrow, I'd finally be able to replace my old costume with a professional product, complete with useful tools.

"It's... I want to have something to listen to when I'm out of the house," I finally replied. "I do want to learn more about Krypton, and listening to music outside wouldn't draw suspicion in comparison to, like, watching a film."

It was a terrible lie, but it seemed to work. One of Brainiac's mechanical arms took a few tapes and prepared a small device. Plugging the tapes in, they began to whir softly.

"Very well, Taylor. What music would you want me to transcribe?"

"What were some of the most famous musicians on Krypton?" I asked.

"That is a difficult question to answer, due to its subjective nature. There are millions I could choose from, each considered to be the greatest of a certain genre in a certain age. How many Earth musicians can you think of, most of which have only lived in the past five hundred years?"

"Alright, fair enough," I said. "What are your oldest musicians, then? Like, the Kryptonian equivalent of Bach or Mozart."

"Enduring musicians, then. Allow me to run a search buffer for musicians whose work had significant cultural significance for more than ten thousand years." Brainiac flashed, then continued. "There are several examples: Rak-Ul, commonly regarded as the founder of First Expansion Yearning; and Yula Mon-El, who composed the famous Unification Symphony."

"That sounds good. Could you put their most famous songs on the tapes? One tape for each musician."

"Certainly. Would you like to hear some, first?"

I smiled. "Please."

"This is the Unification Symphony I mentioned earlier," Brainiac said. "Yula Mon-El composed it by the commission of the new Kryptonian government to celebrate the planet's nations uniting into one. It is one hundred and ninety-two thousand, six hundred and forty-eight Earth years old."

There was a half-moment's pause, then music began to fill the room, unlike anything I had heard before. Everything about it seemed familiar, yet distinct in its own beautiful way; the instruments weren't like anything on Earth, yet they just _clicked_ together. I could describe the melody that came out of the speaker to the end of my days, and still not do it justice.

Something wet ran down my cheeks, and I realized I was actually crying. Sniffling, I wiped the tears away and took a deep breath. Part of me just wanted to sit and _listen_ , to hear what other masterpieces Brainiac had stored, but I knew there was still work to be done.

"That's enough," I said. "That'll do for now."

"Very well," Brainiac said. "I have finished transcribing the music, as requested."

Sure enough, the tapes popped out, and I hurriedly pocketed them. Brainiac retracted the machine back into the bowels of the rocket, and I left the basement. Dad was asleep upstairs, so I hovered above the ground as I headed to my room and put the tapes in my backpack.

Once that was done, I changed into my costume, and crept out the window. The entire city was open to me, a vast expanse of sight and sounds that ranged from the microscopic to the gigantic. A fire in the downtown area; a mugging in several blocks away; countless other emergencies... there was a lot to do for the night.

Thankfully, I wouldn't be alone. The Protectorate was out there, handling more than a few crimes out in the city, and there were independent heroes to consider, like the New Wave. Maybe I could drop by and help the Wards out; Weld would probably be on-shift, and he'd be friendly enough to work with me.

A scream suddenly interrupted my musings. Turning, I saw that it was coming from a little boy, no older than six, huddled up against the wall and crying uncontrollably. A man was nearby on the ground, being savagely beaten by a pair of ABB thug. The boy's father, based on the facial similarities, or maybe his uncle.

I arrived in a matter of moments, landing between the boy and the thugs, the asphalt threatening to crack beneath my feet. The gangbangers turned to look at me after a heartbeat's pause, and their eyes widened like saucers as the realization hit them. One of them overcame his shock to pull out a gun, but I beat him to the punch.

In mere seconds, they were unconscious and tied to a nearby telephone pole, bound with a bar of metal I ripped from a nearby fence. Once I was sure they were secured, I turned my attention to the boy and the injured man on the street. The kid was kneeling by the man, still crying, and I rushed over to see how I could help.

The boy looked up at me with red eyes as I knelt beside him. "Por favor... mi papa..."

"Le ayudaré," I replied.

The man was hurt badly, that much was certain. Three ribs on his right side were broken, ugly bruises welling up under the skin, and he struggled with each breath. His brain was untouched, thankfully, and there didn't appear to be any spinal damage; I could carry him safely.

Carefully, I took him into my arms. He grunted in pain when picked him up, but was otherwise silent. Shifting him into a better position, I turned to look at the boy and forced a smile.

I swallowed dryly. "Espera aquí."

The boy nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"No se preocupe," I said, trying to reassure him. "Yo soy Superwoman."

With that, I flew.

There was a hospital close by; I landed at the emergency entrance, taking care not to jostle the man in my arms. It took only a few moments for paramedics to spot me, and they rushed over with a stretcher. Gently, they took the man and laid him on it, then began to wheel him inside. I flew back to grab the boy and brought him to the paramedics as well, quickly explaining that he was the man's son.

Thankfully, they took him in. In the distance, I could hear sirens as the police went to apprehend the thugs I disabled; that was one less thing to worry about. Breathing a sigh of relief, I took to the sky once more.

As I flew, I glanced down at my hands, and I saw they were coated in blood. Already it was congealing on my hands, and I had to repress the urge to vomit as I flew to the beach to wash it off. I plucked a jagged rock from the sand and used it to scrape my hands clean before shoving them into the waves. Cool seawater washed around me, but it didn't quite soak my clothes, as though my power resisted it.

Yet it didn't resist blood.

I took a deep breath, trying to ignore the lump in my throat. The boy's scream rang through my head, as did the weak gurgles of his dying father, and I couldn't get them out. I could remember every minute detail of what happened, and it made me want to cry, to _forget_.

No. Letting out a shuddering sigh, I rose to my feet and brushed myself off. Things like that were to be expected; I needed to focus on the fact that the man's life was saved, that the boy still had a father. I couldn't let the horrors get to me. I _wouldn't_.

Clenching my fists, I soared into the sky. There was still work that needed to be done.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **2.05**

It was a blessing from the gods that the second day of school fell on a Friday. Without Emma to hang out with, lunch was the only thing I could look forward to; I already knew the class subject matter like the back of my hand, and most of the other students didn't want to socialize with me.

Sitting down at the lunch table, I pulled out a book and began to read. It was a bit frustrating, reading around other people; I couldn't just flip through the pages and finish it in a few seconds. Nonetheless, it gave me something to do, aside from just listening to the countless sounds of the world around me.

"Learning Russian now, huh?"

I looked up to see Weld sit down at the table, pulling up close to me. There was warmth behind his smile, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Yeah, the Mandarin was too tough," I lied. "Decided Russian would be easier, and it is."

"Huh," Weld said. "Never would've thought that, with how weird the words look even after being transcribed."

Unzipping his backpack, he pulled out a thick volume on parahuman studies and plopped it on the desk. It was already chock full of notes and sticky pads wedged between the pages, and I gathered it was his own personal copy to use. He didn't open it, however; instead, he opted to turn to me.

"So, what music do you have?"

"I think you'll like it," I said, pulling the tapes out of my pocket. "You can play these, right?"

"Yep," Weld replied, reaching over to grab the tapes. "These will work just fine, Taylor."

Fishing into his backpack, he pulled out an old SDAT player and plugged in the first tape. Putting on his headphones, he leaned back into his seat and listened intently, eyes staring out into space. A few moments passed, then his eyes began to widen. Tuning in, I realized he was getting to when the first movement got _really_ good. His head began to bop with the rhythm, and a wide smile broke out on his face.

"This is really good," he said. "Like, _really_ good. Where did you find this?"

"It, uh, was my mom's collection," I hastily replied. "She was the music buff in the family, and she got me into it. She never told me where she bought it, though, and I don't really know the genre."

"Hell, I'm not sure if I even know it. It's sorta like classical, but there's so many different styles meshed into it, you know? And the instrumentals aren't what I'm used to hearing, either."

I shrugged. "I think they're foreign, but I'm not sure."

"Me neither," he replied.

A few minutes passed in silence, then Weld reluctantly paused the music. Pulling the tape out, he put in the other and began to listen to that one. He seemed to like it even more, if the bobbing of his head was any indication, and he was very reluctant to remove his headphones after a few minutes had passed.

"Does your mom have any more of this?" he asked. "You should ask her about the genre."

"She, uh, died," I said, averting my eyes. "She left me the tapes."

Weld frowned. "I'm sorry, Taylor; I didn't know about that."

"Not your fault," I replied, smiling weakly. "I didn't tell you about it."

"Still should've guessed," Weld sighed. "You want the tapes back?"

"No, no; you can keep them over the weekend," I replied. "Just be careful with them, okay?"

"Okay," he replied, nodding. "Don't worry; they're in good hands, Taylor."

Weld put the tapes in his backpack, along with the book; it seemed he'd decided against reading for now. He pulled out some tapes of his own and handed them to me, offering a tight smile.

"Who's the artist?" I asked, taking the cassettes.

"It's a mixtape of my favorites," he replied. "I listen to it when I'm reading back on base. You can keep it for the weekend, too."

"T-thanks," I said. "Can I borrow your SDAT?"

Weld smiled. "Sure thing, Taylor."

Putting the headset on, I began to listen. As it turned out, Weld had fantastic taste in music; there were songs from a variety of genres on his cassette, each of them great in their own way. Jazz, pop, hip-hop; he was quite broad in his samplings.

I gave him a thumbs-up, prompting a wide grin. I listened to the tape for a bit longer, then removed it from the SDAT and pocketed it.

"Thanks," I said, handing him back the SDAT.

"No problem," Weld replied. "You know, I was, uh, wondering..."

"Yes?"

If Weld could blush, he'd be bright red as he spoke. "Do you want to hang out sometime? I mean, when we're not in school and all."

"T-that sounds good," I said, my voice practically a squeak. "Yeah. I'd like that."

The bell rang, and Weld glanced at the clock. "Already? Hang on, let me give you my phone number."

He ripped a piece of paper from his backpack and jotted down a number on it, then handed it to me. I stuffed into my pocket, then rose to my feet, smiling.

"See you soon," I said.

"Likewise," Weld replied, turning to the exit.

I headed to my own class, painfully aware of the heat in my cheeks. Did that actually just happen? Did Weld, a boy, just give me his phone number? It was a jarring disconnect, really; that had never happened before. Guys tended to waltz past me and hit on Emma; I was her lanky friend that acted almost as a buffer. Sure, she tried to hook me up a few times, but it never worked out.

I pulled out the paper and read the number. Was there anything more to it? He just said 'hang out', not 'let us practice the art of mushing our faces together', and Weld didn't seem like the guy to do that.

Folding the paper again, I stuffed it back into my pocket and continued on to class.

Besides, there was someone else I needed to call first.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Later that afternoon, I was in the park once more. The weather was cooling down, the air almost crisp, but there was still some way to go before summer came to an end. There were less people out, since it was an afternoon on a weekday, which was perfect for what I needed to do.

Jones was sitting on the bench we specified, reading a thick book. Taking a moment to look, I saw he was reading Welsh poetry, of all things. My understanding of the language was scarce, unfortunately, and I made a mental note to study it later as I strolled over.

"Afternoon, Mr. Jones," I said.

He looked up, blinking in surprise. "I almost didn't recognize you for a moment. Good job with the disguise, I must say; most people wouldn't suspect the truth. Come, sit."

I sat down on the other edge of the bench and folded a leg over my lap. Jones folded his book shut and turned to me, a professional look on his face. Aside from a jogger that passed by, there was nobody within a hundred feet around us to hear the conversation.

"What is it you want to talk about?" he asked. "Do you need my detective services?"

I shook my head. "I need your help as a former PRT director. What can you tell me about the ABB, that I already don't know?"

Jones leaned back, his brow furrowed. "Let me see... well, they're definitely largest gang in terms of sheer numbers, even if they don't have as many capes as the E88. Even less, now that you took down Tengu. Good work, by the way."

"Thanks," I said.

"Now, the ABB is composed of many nationalities and ethnicities from Asia," Jones continued. "If you even know a little history, you know that typically doesn't end well. Lung keeps the gang together through intimidation and fear; no one dares cross him, not even the heavier bruisers in the E88. I didn't want to go into much detail beforehand, but he was present at Kyushu."

"That was the worst attack, right?"

Jones nodded. "Leviathan assaulted the place for three hours before being driven off, leaving two million dead in his wake. According to some sources, the continental plate would've cracked after another hour or so, from all the pressure the water put on, and it would've sunken beneath the waves. Thankfully, it didn't come to that."

"Did Lung drive him off?"

"More or less; the Green Dragon was also there, along with the Protectorate and local heroes. Two dragons against another, I suppose. Still, it gave us in the PRT a good assessment of what Lung could do, the power he could wield if given enough time to ramp up. He can easily become the most powerful cape in the city if he's not taken down fast, which is why he's still at large."

"So, without Lung, the gang would splinter?"

"Faster than he'd care to admit." Jones leaned forward, a sudden look of concern on his face. "I have a bad feeling about where this is going."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Has anyone told you that you're a terrible liar?" Jones asked. "I know you're considering taking the fight to Lung. A lot of capes had that same idea; they either wised up or they died. Painfully. You need coordination, teamwork, and a damned good plan to handle a cape like that; thick-headedness could get you killed."

My face hardened. "How long has the Protectorate been working at that, might I ask?"

Jones fell silent.

"The Protectorate and PRT are afraid of what would happen, wouldn't they?" I pressed on. "I know enough of my history to know that power vacuums can lead to chaos, and that's not something they don't want to happen."

"I never agreed with that," Jones sighed. "I put a lot of pressure on my higher-ups, trying to get more capes in the city so we could handle these gangs. I know where you're coming from, Taylor, and I agree with you. A power struggle _could_ be bad, if we don't step in soon enough to handle things, but this current situation _is_ bad."

"Last night, I saw a boy screaming bloody murder as two ABB goons beat his father half to death. I could see the fear in his eyes, hear the pounding of his tiny heart against his ribs. He'll carry that memory for the rest of his life. And what about the other victims of the ABB and E88? The people they've killed, or tortured, or victimized? How many girls have been taken into their sex slavery rings?"

"Too many," Jones said. "I've seen those things you're talking about; it keeps me up at night."

"So I'm not going to let that continue," I replied, my voice hard. "This? This whole thing between the ABB and E88? It ends _now_. I'm not going to disrupt the balance of power in the criminal underground; I'm going to crush it into the ground and make sure it never gets back up."

"You think you can do this by yourself?" Jones asked. "You're going to need help along the way; you have to know that."

I nodded. "Of course I will, but don't underestimate me. I have more than a few tricks up my sleeve that no one's seen yet."

"Well, it's clear that I can't talk you out of this." Jones sighed and rose to his feet. "Don't hesitate to ask for help. Be _careful_ , Taylor, and good luck."

"Thanks," I replied. "Have a nice day, Mr. Jones."

"Please, call me John," he called back, walking away. "Mr. Jones makes me feel old."

"John," I said to myself, watching him go. "John Jones. Nice ring to it."

Sighing, I rose to my feet and started the long walk home. The sun was low on the horizon, and I had to be back at the house for Dad. I was planning on making a nice lasagna for him; I'd need to start baking soon.

After that, however, I had other business to attend to.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

In the dead of night, after Dad had gone to bed, I went downstairs with a mug of tea in hand. Brainiac was still in the corner, humming softly in the infrasonic range as it worked, and it began to glow as I glided down the last steps into the basement.

"Good evening, Taylor."

"Evening, Brainiac," I said, putting the mug down on the workshop table. "How's work going?"

"Your suit is finally completed, after some last-minute tune-ups," Brainiac replied. "Would you like to see it?"

"Heck yeah!" I said. "I've been waiting forever for it; I finally want to see how it looks."

"Very well."

The compartment on the rocket opened up, and a mechanical arm held up the uniform for me to see. It was definitely an improvement over the one I had made for myself; for one, it was a single piece of cloth that was tailor-made for me. Stepping forward, I ran a hand over the bright blue fabric of the uniform, pinching it between my fingers. It felt almost like silk, but _different_ , in a way I couldn't really describe.

Turning it around, I saw that the zipper was on the back, just as I had designed it. Quickly pulling off my clothes, I took the uniform from the clothes rack and put it on, marveling at how it felt. It wasn't like spandex or other tights; in fact, it was rather thick, but it fitted me better than my own skin. Pulling up the zipper, I began to stretch about, testing how the suit responded. It seemed to almost shift with every movement, never chafing nor folding.

"Is it satisfactory?" Brainiac inquired.

"It's amazing," I breathed.

"I also synthesized the belt you requested, with some additions."

"Oh?"

"You can look for yourself and tell me your opinion on it."

Turning, I saw the yellow belt suspended on another mechanical arm. It looked a lot like how I'd designed it, but it actually had pouches and clips to store stuff. In a way, it reminded me a lot of the utility belts worn by cops and PRT officers, but more streamlined and stylized.

Taking it, I clinched it around my waist with a soft click, making sure the buckle was on right. Once that was done, I grabbed my cape and draped it over my shoulders. Something in the fabric in my suit shifted, and the cape became firmly attached.

God, I love Kryptonian technology.

"Now _this_ is a proper uniform," I said, twirling about. "This is like something the Triumvirate would wear."

"Is there anything else you require, Taylor?" Brainiac asked.

I paused, thinking back on what Jones had warned. If I was going to follow through on what I planned, I needed to be prepared.

"Can you synthesize a safe tranquilizer?" I asked. "One that could make variable doses based on who the dart impacts?"

"A simple task," Brainiac replied. "Wait ten minutes."

I waited, tapping my foot impatiently. Glancing at my tea, I decided to drink it while Brainiac synthesized the tranqs. More out of habit than anything else, I gently blew on the surface-

-and several flakes of ice formed.

I blinked in surprise, then blew again, harder than before. Sure enough, a thin layer of ice formed over my tea, then swiftly began to melt. The infrared light blooming off the surface was dimmer than before, and I warily took a sip. The tea was cooler than before, but not hot, and I drank deeply.

Well, that was certainly new.

By the time I finished the tea, a trio of darts had come out of the rocket, and I gently grabbed them. Giving them a once over, I put them into one of my belt pouches. They could come into handy, later tonight.

Finally, I was ready. Silently floating up the stairs, I crept out of the house, then took off. I flew high into the air, far above the city, then looked down.

It didn't take long to find the heart of ABB operations; a large warehouse close to the water. There were plenty of guards patrolling around, many of them with guns, and other gang members were lounging around in surrounding buildings. Many were drinking, and one of the warehouses seemed to be where they kept their... human comforts.

In the main building, there were even more gang members. Oni Lee seemed to be prowling around the edges, occasionally using his power to reach vantage points as he kept an eye out for intruders. But someone else caught my attention; someone far more dangerous than Oni Lee.

Lung himself sat on one of the higher floors of the building, lounging in a La-Z boy as he watched his subordinates work. He was big, bigger than most men, and he wore no shirt to hide his muscular upper body. Dragon tattoos covered his arms and chest, all of them Eastern designs, and he wore an elaborate metal mask to hide his face. Peering underneath, I saw a rather hard face with cold eyes.

I didn't have to do this. Maybe I should've tried to get help from the Protectorate, spur them into action. But Jones was right when he said that they were afraid of the power struggle that'd come. How many crimes would the ABB commit while I tried to get the Protectorate to stop them?

Taking a deep breath, I made a beeline right for the heart of the ABB.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **2.06**

I went for where they were keeping the girls first.

They were being kept in a warehouse rather far away from where Lung was currently residing; they were stuffed into makeshift cells like sardines in a can. Altogether, there were twenty-three of them, most of them around my age. It appeared that they were 'fresh stock', based on how their clothes weren't completely filthy yet. A lone guard was in the warehouse with them, watching TV, while another stood at the door.

The thought of what kind of future could await those girls made my blood boil.

The guard at the door didn't have time to react before I dropped from the sky and clocked him in the chin. He crumpled to the ground soundlessly, and I made sure to hogtie him with his belt before I knocked the door down.

The other guard spun in his chair, grabbing for the gun he had on the table, but I beat him to the punch. Ripping the gun out of his hand with enough force to crack some fingers, I knocked him out as well. There was a cellphone in his pocket, and I made sure to grab it before heading to check on the prisoners.

The girls recoiled away from the bars as I walked forward, a look of terror in their eyes. The reflexive flinch spoke volumes about their treatment, and I felt a little guilty about scaring them like that. The place reeked of grime and waste; of course the ABB wouldn't care about their hygiene. Many of them already looked gaunt and malnourished, a sunken look in their eyes.

"P-please," one of the girls said, huddling with the others. "H-h-help us."

"That's why I'm here," I replied, trying to sound soothing. "Don't worry; I'm breaking you out."

Taking a deep breath, I stepped towards the nearest cage. The lock was putty in my hands as I tore it free, and the gate swung open with a creak. Stepping back, I let the girls slowly come out. I did the same for the other cages, until all of them were freed from their cells. I tossed the cellphone to the girl who had spoken earlier, then straightened.

"You need to get out of here as fast as you can. There's a secure alleyway out back; I checked for any signs of ABB. Call the police and the PRT, tell them what's going on."

The girl swallowed. "A-about this?"

I nodded. "The ABB is ending tonight; I'm making sure of that. There's going to be a hell of a ruckus in the next few minutes, and I don't want you to get hurt in the thick of it. Now, go!"

Slowly but surely, the girls began to leave through the open door, following my directions. I watched them for a minute or two, making sure they weren't encountering any trouble, then turned my attention to the other matters at hand. There were plenty of warehouses in the ABB's turf, many of them filled with armed thugs. While they probably didn't have anything more impressive than grenades, I didn't want to take any chances.

And, of course, there was still the matter of Oni Lee and Lung. The two of them alone provided the backbone of the gang; guns could do only so much to level the playing field when a single man could wipe out a city block. If what Jones said about Lung was true, I needed to hit him hard, and hit fast. The thought of him burning down the entire Docks wasn't an appealing one.

Cracking my knuckles, I set to work.

There were two other warehouses nearby, where the ABB prepared their drugs for the trade. A good number of the workers there seemed to be unwilling participants, considering how nervous the presence of the guards made them. I flew to one of them next, smashing through the wall and disabling the thugs inside. Once they were down, a lot of the workers began to run, using the hole I made to escape.

Based on the sound of distant sirens, something told me they wouldn't get far. The police would be sympathetic to their plight; it was well-known that many people were forced to work for the larger gangs, but they still needed to be processed by the law to make sure of that. I wasn't completely comfortable with it, but I knew it needed to be done.

By the time I was finished with the second of the drug-cutting warehouses, the ABB was starting to wake up to what was going on. Thugs began to pour out of their hiding holes, brandishing a hodgepodge of weapons, from knives to assault rifles. Ash billowed in the corner of my eye, and Oni Lee teleported onto the street, dead eyes staring out from underneath a stylized mask.

There had to be at least fifty thugs converging on the warehouse, and that didn't count the trouble Oni Lee could cause. Lung had probably taken notice as well, and that'd give him time to ramp up, to become even stronger. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself. _Focus._

Then, I sprang into action.

I moved in a blur of motion, weaving between the goons as I took them out one by one. Time seemed to slow to a trickle as I went faster than ever before, the thugs' motions growing sluggish, like they were trying to move through molasses. By the time one hit the ground, four more would be out for the count. It must've been a terrifying sight for them, seeing their friends so quickly taken down, but what I had seen earlier made it hard to sympathize.

Oni Lee teleported, the copy left in his place crumbling into ash as I struck it. His heartbeat came into being again, and I turned to see he had moved onto a fire escape. He could wait for the time being; I decided to disable the thugs first.

A few more were coming out of nearby warehouses, but they were as useful as a screen door on a submarine. In a matter of a minute, they were all taken care of. Some were handcuffed, or bound with nearby chains, while I needed to use less conventional restraints for the rest. Belts, shoelaces; whatever I could get. The PRT and police would arrive soon enough; they could better handle them once it was all done.

Now, I could focus on the _real_ powers of the ABB.

Oni Lee chucked a grenade at me from his vantage point on the fire escape. It wouldn't hurt me, but I knew the disabled thugs weren't so tough. Flying up to catch it, I then tossed it as far up into the air as possible. There was a sharp crack as the grenade broke the sound barrier, then it detonated a half-second later, sending shrapnel raining down and pattering on the ground. Aside from a few scratches, the goons on the ground were unharmed.

I flew at Lee before he could prepare another grenade. Catching him in the cheek, he fell over, only to crumble into ash again. It was frustrating, trying to deal with him; his power meant I couldn't tell when he'd already teleported. Listening in for his heartbeat, I turned to see that he'd moved back to the ground. Flying down, I struck him in the chin, and he collapsed _without_ turning into ash.

With Lee finally down, there was only one left to deal with. Behind me, I heard the doors of the main warehouse crumple and fold outwards as something _big_ lurched out, its massive heart pounding like a bass drum. Slowly, I turned to see _him_ stalk forward, flames dancing about his body.

Lung.

Already he had grown to fifteen feet in height, scales glittering like smooth stones as fire washed over them. He was more dragon than man, now, his form top-heavy as his chest broadened, bones cracking and reforming beneath steely muscle. A long head turned my way, perched atop a serpentine neck, and I could see the fury in his all-too-human eyes.

" _Ooo,_ " he growled, his voice a low rumble. " _Ill ooo._ "

 _Kill you_ , I translated. He really meant business.

I floated gently up into the air until I was at eye level with him, arms folded. Lung stayed still, studying me with eyes bigger than my head. His growth slowed, but didn't stop; he was judging me, planning his attack. It seemed he was smarter than most had given him credit for.

"It's over, Lung," I said. "Your gang's taken out. Lee is incapacitated. The PRT and Protectorate will be here soon enough, and you'll be seeing the inside of a cell by the end of the night."

Lung laughed, a throaty chuckle I could feel in my chest. " _Ooo ill ite ee, lilil gurl?_ "

 _You will fight me, little girl?_

I didn't answer. Instead, I dashed forward, striking Lung across the face with both fists. Bones cracked beneath the blow, and Lung's head snapped to the side as he stumbled back, blood spraying from his shattered jaw. Already his wounds were healing, but it still had to hurt.

" _Ugger!_ " he roared, charging forward.

I didn't need to translate that.

For something so big, Lung moved faster than I expected. A clawed hand caught me in the side, sending me flying close to the edge of the water. Asphalt cracked beneath me as I hit the ground hard, and nearby windows rattled with the force of the impact. Rising to my feet, I saw Lung tearing up the street beneath his claws as he lumbered forward, flames practically exploding outward from every square inch of his body.

Flexing, I flew straight at him, catching him in the gut with outstretched fists. Ribs shattered and organs pulped as the hit knocked Lung off his feet, blood spraying from his mouth, but he seemed to ignore it as he grew larger, the wounds swiftly healing. Before my eyes, he went from fifteen feet to twenty, more and more scales sprouting from his skin as he became even more monstrous. A pair of wings began to emerge from his back, scaly flesh unfolding between the spindly skeleton.

" _Ill erp urr oms uf!_ " Lung snarled.

"You can try!" I shouted back.

Lung lunged at me again, but I ducked underneath the clumsy swing and struck upwards, lifting him off his feet. I went on the offensive, hitting harder and harder as Lung regenerated the damage. He tried to swat me down, but I grabbed his arm and hefted him over my head, sending him smashing into the ground. Lung's arm shattered, splintered bone protruding from his flesh, but he ignored it as he reared up. Pulling against me, his arm tore free of its socket, only for a new one to begin growing in.

I thought back to the tranquilizers in my belt, then dismissed them for the time being. He was tough, but I was tougher, and he needed to _know_ that. It was time to kick things into high gear and _end_ this.

Before Lung could react, I grabbed his left leg and arced upward, pulling him into the air. He roared in protest, flames darting from his skin, but I didn't feel their searing heat. I _did_ feel bones shift as he continued to heal and grow, however; I could see why he was so troublesome for the Protectorate. Another pair of wings was beginning to sprout from his back, and he was already over thirty feet in height.

That wouldn't matter much in a few moments, however. Already I had formulated a plan.

Once I was a good hundred feet into the air, I took hold of his left leg and began to spin about, building up momentum. Lung tried to kick free, but I tightened my grip, blood trickling from where my fingers stabbed into his scaly flesh. We moved faster and faster, to the point where my fingers threatened to simply slice through his leg, and I finally decided to let go.

Lung arced out towards the bay, flames trailing behind him as he flew. He actually _skipped_ across the surface of the water before finally sinking with a massive splash, and I could see that the impact had shattered nearly every bone in his body. The wounds began to knit back together with astonishing speed, but it wouldn't be enough.

Lowering to the surface of the bay, I began to breathe deeply. And I mean _deeply_. The water began to ripple inwards in all directions with the sheer force of my inhalation, and I could feel an icy chill in the pit of my stomach as the air began to be compressed in my lungs. Beneath me, Lung was swimming to the surface, a look of fury in his draconian eyes.

Of course, he had no idea what was going to hit him.

Lung broke the surface, an inhuman roar escaping him as he zeroed in on me. I floated before him, chest held proud, then _exhaled_. A cone of white fog struck him dead on, ice forming wherever it made contact. Lung's flames were promptly snuffed out, and a thick layer of ice began to encase him, trapping him. His heart continued to beat in his scaly breast, but I could see my trick had taken the fight out of him.

Floating back, I watched as the ice slowly melted, and as Lung shrank. Once he was below ten feet, I drifted forward, taking the tranquilizers out of my belt. Lung still glared at me, and I could see new flames dancing around him as the last vestiges of ice disappeared, but it was of no concern.

"I will bring you to new levels of-" he began, only to be silenced when I grabbed his throat.

Pulling him out of the water, I jabbed the tranquilizers into his neck. There was a hiss of a syringe at work, and I could see the serum pumping through Lungs' veins, sedating him. He fell lax in my grip, and the flames died away as he finally shrank back to normal.

"Wh... what did you..." he slurred.

"I pumped you full of sedatives. Should keep you incapacitated long enough for the authorities to arrive. Still have two more, just in case."

"Why... wait?" Lung mumbled. "Why not use... earlier?"

"Why?" I paused, then brought him closer, so he could look into my eyes. "To show that I could've won the fight whenever I wanted. You waited and grew, to the point that the entire local Protectorate couldn't beat you, but _I_ did. The other gangs and villains in the city will know that, now. They'll know that this city is no longer theirs to torment, that they are now the small fish in the pond."

My grip tightened, and I could see him try to tense in response.

"You're finished, Lung. Even if you do somehow escape captivity, I'll be waiting, and I'll beat you again."

I turned to the sound of sirens. Already police cruisers and PRT vans were pulling up along the Docks, handcuffing the thugs I disabled.

"Now, let's properly finish this night," I said. "Try not to make a fuss."

Rising into the air, I began to fly back to the shore, and to a new city.


	7. Interlude - C

**Earlier**

He knew he was making progress when he forgot to eat.

The soft chime of an alarm pulled him out of his work, and he wearily looked up from the workshop table. Dragon's avatar was splayed on the computer monitor, a concerned look on her face.

"Yes, yes, I know," he muttered softly, leaning back in his chair. "I was finally getting a handle on the upgrade for the grappling hook. Hard to make a mechanism that small and powerful."

"It's been six hours since you last got up from this table, Colin. Go get a cup of coffee, maybe something to eat. I can review your notes some more while you're out."

Colin sighed. "I appreciate your help, Dragon."

Rubbing his eyes, he rose from his seat, stretching as he did. The sound of vertebrae popping in his back and neck prompted a wince from him, and he made a mental note to look into better chair designs. Grabbing his helmet, he slid it over his head until it connected to the rest of his suit with a soft click, then headed out into the hallway.

It was graveyard shift at the Protectorate HQ. The halls were virtually deserted, with only the occasional sighting of another human being. Miss Milita and Dauntless were on patrol, while Velocity was likely back at home. Assault and Battery were in the building with him, most likely training together, but their shift would end in half an hour. Quiet nights were a relative luxury, especially in a city like Brockton Bay.

Now, where could he find a vending machine...

"Few halls down, on your right," Dragon said, her voice smooth over the headset. "There's also a coffee machine next to it."

"Thank you," he mumbled.

As he strode down the hall, he passed by Weld's quarters, and paused. The door was slightly ajar, and through it he could hear music. What caught his attention, however, was that it was unlike anything he'd heard before. It was beautiful, but at the same time an oddity, curiously arranged. Weld often played music in the dead of night, when there was nobody around to complain, but never anything like this.

After a moment's hesitation, he walked to the door and knocked curtly. A few moments passed, then Weld opened it. Colin could hear the music more clearly, now, and he realized that he'd never heard the instruments played before. Yet, at the same time, there was something oddly familiar about it; the melody was almost like a classical orchestra, but with a myriad of small twists.

"Is there a problem, sir?" Weld asked.

Colin shook his head. "No, I was just curious about what you were listening to."

Weld shrugged. "A friend gave it to me."

"One of the Wards? I know Clockblocker occasionally listens to music on his off-shift."

"No, just a friend in school."

Colin frowned. It was an innocent enough statement, but it was surprising that the metal Ward had already made a friend; reports from Boston indicated that Weld had trouble socializing in his old school. It was a pleasant surprise, he supposed, but something about it made him feel a little suspicious.

"Very well," he finally said. "Enjoy your night."

"Thank you, sir."

Weld shut the door, and Colin continued on to get his much-needed caffeine. The music grew faint, and he felt almost reluctant to leave it behind. _That_ was definitely a surprise; he was never too keen on such things.

He activated his helmet's commset. "Dragon, did you hear that music Weld was playing?"

"I did. Sounded quite lovely. Would you want to see if I could find the artist?"

"If it doesn't take too much time, then I suppose so. I admit, it has me rather curious."

"Very well," Dragon said. "Give me a few minutes."

Finally, Colin reached the coffee machine. With a swipe of his PRT-issued card, he grabbed a cup and watched as it filled with hot java. The strong aroma of ground beans wafted by his nose, and he let out a long sigh of satisfaction.

With his prize in tow, he returned to his workshop. The monitor had gone to sleep; it seemed that Dragon was still researching the music. Normally, it was a simple matter to find a subject; Dragon knew the inner workings of the internet like he did the back of his hand.

Curious.

Sitting down at his workshop table, he went back to work. The innards of his halberd were splayed open, revealing the complex circuitry underneath; he had to be careful not to damage the other systems as he put in new parts. Sometimes, when he took a step back, he realized just how little he himself could understand the technology; it was like the designs just popped into being, with no explanation as to _how_.

"Colin."

He looked up. Dragon's digital face had returned, brow furrowed.

"Something wrong?"

"Yes," Dragon replied. "I can't find it. The music, I mean. There's no record of it whatsoever."

Colin took a sip of his coffee. "Are you sure? There's a lot of underground music that isn't digitalized. Have you tried searching more physical documents?"

"I wouldn't call that kind of music 'underground'," Dragon retorted. "It's more like something a world-class orchestra would play. And I've already checked for digital links to physical storage, but they showed nothing, either. It's like this music just came out of nowhere."

There was a moment's pause before she continued. "Colin, I've recently come across some information... and I don't know what to do with it. Do you ever recall there being a tinker named Andrew Richter?"

"I think you mentioned him before. You and him used to work together, back in Newfoundland."

"Before Leviathan managed to sink the island and killed half a million people before being driven off by the Guild and the Green Dragon. Richter was one of those casualties, swept away by the waves. For a while now, I've been performing salvage operations in the area, trying to find as many of his notes as possible. It's been quite beneficial to my own work so far."

"Did you find something concerning?" Colin inquired. "Designs for a dangerous weapon, perhaps?"

"Nothing quite like that," Dragon replied. "Here, look for yourself."

Her digital avatar disappeared, replaced with an image of some notes. It seemed that Richter used both computers and paper for his designs and blueprints, most likely for redundancy. What caught his attention, however, was an illustration in the center. It appeared to be of a long, cylindrical tube, with marks indicating that it was small enough to fit into his hand.

On the cap, delicately carved into the metal, was a familiar 'S' symbol.

"That's the same as the one Superwoman has," Colin muttered, rubbing his chin. "The _exact_ same. But how could she've known about the lost works of a long-dead tinker?"

"Actually, this isn't the creation of Richter," Dragon said. "Someone _gave_ it to him, if only for a short time before taking it back."

Colin took another swig of his coffee. "Do we know who? That would certainly shed some light on the matter."

"Unfortunately, no," Dragon sighed. "Those records have been lost for good. And there's another thing about it, too."

"Which is?"

Before Dragon could reply, the phone rang. Colin glanced over, and saw that it was the Director calling.

"Hold on," he said, clicking the 'answer' button. "Armsmaster speaking."

" _This is Director Piggot. There is an emergency going on at the Docks_."

He sat up in his chair. "What kind of emergency, ma'am?"

" _All we know is that the ABB's getting assaulted in their own territory, and they're losing. We're mobilizing as many PRT and police as we can to get a handle on the situation. Dauntless and Miss Militia are already en route; I want you, Assault, and Battery to join them ASAP_."

"Yes, ma'am."

" _Good._ "

The call ended. Putting the phone back on the receiver, he rose from his chair and glanced at Dragon.

"We can discuss it later," he said. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some urgent business to attend to."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

By the time he arrived at the Docks on his motorcycle, it was already over.

Police cars and PRT vans had pulled up right in the heart of ABB territory unmolested. Or, considering the circumstances, _former_ ABB territory. The PRT had formed a line around the scene, preventing press and curious bystanders from getting any closer. They parted when they saw him pass by, however, flanked by Assault and Battery. There were a few murmurs and whispers amongst the civilians as he walked by them, many of them excited.

Already, he could see low-level dealers and thugs being loaded into armored trucks by the dozens, all of them handcuffed. There was a nearby officer, and he strolled forward, halberd gripped tightly in his hand.

"What's the sitrep?" he asked.

The officer turned to look his way. "From what we can tell? The ABB's finished. Gone. Kaput. The police estimated that the ABB had at least two hundred in their direct employ; we've arrested three hundred already. Many of them started piling in when the attack started to try and back the others up, and ran right into us. A bunch of women they were intending to sell off made the call; they're safe and sound at the moment."

"Do we know who did it?" Battery asked.

The officer shook his head. "No clue. The thugs aren't talking, either. Guess it's a matter of bruised pride. The girls said it was a cape, but left it at that. We also received reports of a considerable light show going on near the water, though that only lasted a little bit. Probably Lung."

He scratched his chin before continuing. "Could use your help in securing some of the prisoners; we also have to deal with loading Oni Lee."

"Lee was taken down?" asked Colin.

"Same way as everyone else: a single hit to the face. Gave him a bad concussion, but he'll be alright, which is why I could use some help."

Colin nodded at Assault and Battery. They went ahead, following where the officer pointed. Sure enough, Oni Lee was handcuffed on the ground, struggling weakly against his bonds. The officers were wary as they loaded him into a PRT van, but the presence of two Protectorate capes bolstered their resolve.

 _Another ABB cape down_ , Colin thought. _But where's Lung?_

Shouting interrupted his musings. Looking up, he saw a figure descend from the sky, hard to make out in the darkness. It appeared to be a woman, or a tall girl, garbed in a blue bodysuit and red trunks. A golden belt glittered in the moonlight, and Colin could make out the outline of a cape. Another figure hung limply at the woman's side, and Colin's eyes widened when he realized just _who_ the two figures were.

"Sorry about the wait," Superwoman said, cape fluttering behind her as she landed with Lung in tow. "Had to make sure the tranquilizers were working."

She dropped the leader of the ABB at Colin's feet. Lung was already bound with heavy chains, a glazed look in his eyes, and his mask was nowhere to be seen. He slurred a number of curse words in Japanese, but otherwise remained still.

" _You_ did this?" Colin asked. "You took down the entire ABB, Lung and Oni Lee included, in a single night?"

"In a word? Yeah."

His HUD told him she was telling the truth. He opened his mouth to say something, but found he was genuinely speechless. Instead, he opted to kneel down by Lung, as if to verify he wasn't seeing things. The body type and the tattoos matched, and he could recognize the murderous look in the man's eyes.

"Good work you did, young missy," the PRT officer said.

"Are the girls alright?" Superwoman asked, a look of concern on her face. "They had to run before I could get started."

"They're being questioned right now," the officer replied. "Hopefully, they'll be reunited with their families by morning."

"That's good to hear. The fear in their eyes when I came to help them... there was no way I was going to let the ABB continue. It had to end tonight, otherwise I don't think I could forgive myself."

"Well, they don't have anything to fear, now," the officer said.

Colin straightened. "You did good work, Superwoman. We'll be able to handle things from here; we have the proper infrastructure to handle this, though the cells are going to be overpacked."

"Considering how they packed the girls into their cells, I find it hard to sympathize," Superwoman replied. "Now, you sure you don't want me to help?"

"It'd be a bit redundant," Colin said. "I think every law enforcement officer in the city's come here."

A chuckle. "Hope I didn't cause too much of a fuss."

"I suppose it's the good kind," Colin replied. "I also see you have a new suit."

"Like it? Took a while to make, but I think it paid off."

"It looks like a professional job. Have you joined a team?"

She shook her head. "Nope. And with that, I guess I'll be going."

Superwoman turned to fly away, only for Colin to raise a hand. Frowning, she glanced back at him, arms folded over her chest. Despite her youth, there was something almost intimidating in her posture.

"Something up?" she asked.

"I just wanted to ask you a question," he replied.

"Shoot."

"You seem like quite the girl scout, yet you've refused to join the Wards on numerous occasions. You opted for the independent route when you could've had government backing."

"Felt like it'd hold me back, when I could so much more to help people. I know about how the Wards have to play it safe."

"Well, then why _did_ you enter the hero business?" Colin asked. "Why do you risk your life to help people like this, when you could've played it safer like the other Wards?"

For a few moments, Superwoman was silent. Then, she raised her head.

"Because I can."

With that, she was gone, rocketing away into the night. Colin glanced at his HUD readout, and saw that she had actually told the truth. She actually did seem to be quite the samaritan after all, despite some preconceptions in the PRT.

Sighing, he glanced around at all the officers moving about. It was going to take a _lot_ of paperwork to sort this all out. But, ultimately, he felt it would work out for the better.


	8. Arc 3, Part I

**3.01**

"I was only gone for four days, Taylor. _Four days_. And that's all it took for you to hand the ABB its ass?"

I shrugged, leaning back on the couch. "Most of that was just me stopping small crimes in the city, too. Taking down the entire gang was more of a night's work."

"Did you get to meet any of the bigshot heroes?" Emma asked. "Would've been totally awesome if you did."

"I got to meet Armsmaster," I said. "Pretty imposing-looking guy, actually; you could tell when he meant business. Even with everything going on, his heartbeat was pretty calm, if a little elevated."

"Didn't you use to have underwear with his logo on it when you were eight?"

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," I replied, grinning.

"You must've freaked out when you saw him, especially coming off the excitement of beating up that dragon guy," Emma said, cracking a grin. "Heh, maybe I should take a week's trip next; by the time I get back, the entire city'd be clean."

"Hey, it was a _lot_ of free time," I said, chuckling. "So, how was your trip?"

"Eh, not bad." Emma leaned back in the couch, flicking through TV channels. "I got to tour the Protectorate headquarters they have there, complete with a Q&A with one of the capes on the team. Legend wasn't there, though; apparently there was something in Houston he needed to be at."

"Still sounded like a cool trip," I offered.

"Yeah, I'm not saying it _wasn't_ , but it definitely could've been cooler," Emma replied. "Besides, having a cape as a best friend kinda mitigates the 'omg superheroes' feeling you get when you visit. And it's not like I'm friends with a minor cape. No, I'm besties with the girl that kicked the butt of the city's biggest gang."

She paused, then glanced at me. "Anyway, you said you needed to ask me something when you called. What is it?"

"Well," I began, pausing to lick my suddenly dry lips, "I need some, uh, advice."

Emma paused the TV. "Advice on what? Is it a guy? Did you meet a cute guy and not tell me?"

"I mean... kinda? He just said he wanted to hang out with me at a music store, but isn't that sort of a date?"

"It's not 'sorta' date, Tay. It's a date date. Who is it? And how did you meet a guy in those clothes? You have braces. _Braces_. And those pigtails look just godawful."

"Hey!" I protested. "It's how I can go without a mask when I'm Superwoman. People only see what they want to see, right?"

"Yeah, and we also need to work on that name, too," Emma said. "Superwoman? _Seriously_?"

I sighed. "We're getting a bit past the point here. Now, how should I go about this... maybe possible date I have?"

"It'd definitely help if, ya know, you told me who it is. Did you take pity on Greg Veder?"

"It's not Greg Veder. It's someone at Arcadia. He's, uh, different from the other guys there. Smart, and funny, and madeoutofmetal-"

"Wait, what? I didn't catch that last part."

"I just said he's also a hunk," I replied. "Sculpted physique and all that."

"So, just who is this dream guy?" Emma asked. "Or are you too embarrassed to tell your best friend his name?"

I gave Emma an 'are you serious' look. "I'm not going to give in to a guilt trip, Em."

"Come on," she said, batting her eyelashes. "Pwetty pwease?"

"No."

"Pwetty pwease with sugar on top?"

I sighed. "I'll tell you if things work out."

Emma smiled. "I'll take that as a yes. Now, are geeky girls his thing?"

"Maybe? I honestly don't know."

"At the very least, we have to do something about your hair," Emma said, rising from her seat. "It looks all frizzy. Even geeks can have nice hair, you know."

I ran a hand through my curls. "What are we looking at, here? I don't want it too short."

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully as she examined my scalp. "I'm looking at something like a... oh god, what happened?!"

"What?" I mumbled, eyes widening. "What's wrong?"

"You seriously didn't notice this?" Emma grabbed some of my hair, showing me the edges. "There's a _patch_ of burnt hair on the back of your head."

"That was probably when I fought Lung," I murmured, touching the spot Emma specified. "I guess my invulnerability doesn't protect all of me."

"That's a lot less of a freakout than what I expected," Emma said. "I mean, I'd be screaming if my hair got scorched like that."

She sighed before continuing. "Well, so much for keeping your luscious long locks; we're going to have to cut it short."

"How short?" I asked.

"Probably... very short. Hang on; I'll go get the clippers. Maybe you can help cut your own hair, especially with how tough it probably gets."

I watched her go, and a sinking feeling formed in my gut. Something told me I wasn't going to like the result.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Later that day, as I walked to the music store, I _really_ didn't like the result.

I still didn't know what possessed me to let Emma cut my hair so short; it was one of my only major feminine features. Body-wise, I was rather lanky, and my sharp features weren't exactly what fit conventional beauty standards. I could feel more muscle packing onto my frame as I exercised my powers more, but there was only so much an athletic build could do.

For what had to be the fiftieth time, I ran a hand over my hair. Emma had used some gel and sculpting spray in order to go for something fashionable, but I still thought it made me look more like a punk. A rather boyish punk, too, considering how it'd been spiked up. Apparently it was a new 'in', fashion-wise, but I wasn't feeling it.

There was another problem involved with the haircut: I wouldn't be able to hide it as Superwoman. If someone saw me in normal clothes, then saw me while I was out as a cape, would they be able to connect the dots? I couldn't wear a wig, otherwise it'd just blow off the first time I got into a scuffle, and dyes didn't stick well to my hair for some reason.

I paused at the entrance to the shop. _Rhythm Nook_ , the sign read; it was one I occasionally visited. Peering inside, through the wall, I could see that it was still like something out of an old seventies movie. Music posters and worn advertisements coated the walls, and the floor was thickly carpeted.

Weld was inside, rummaging through cases full of old vinyls. He paused to glance at the clock, and I knew he was waiting for me to show up. Aside from a rather stoned clerk, and a small group of teens in the back, there was no one else in the shop.

I took a deep breath, then walked inside.

Weld looked up at me, and blinked in surprise. "You, uh, changed your hair."

"I, uh, g-got it cut after an accident with rubber cement," I said, running a hand through my hair _again_. "T-thoughts."

Weld smiled. "It looks good on you, Taylor. Good to see you came."

I smiled back at him, suddenly feeling a bit warm inside. "W-wouldn't want to leave you hanging like that. Sorry I'm a bit late; there was something I needed to do on the way here."

 _Like stopping a mugging_ , I thought.

"Hey, most people arrive later than you do, especially back in Boston," Weld said. "They definitely like to take their sweet time down there."

"I've only been to Boston a few times, so I can't really compare." I sidled up next to him, looking down at the music he was going through. "So, whatcha looking for?"

Weld shrugged. "Just browsing, really. I'm leaning a bit towards disco, though."

"Hang on." I reached past him and started leafing through the vinyls in the box next over. "There's some Donna Summer over here."

"That was quick," Weld said, arching an eyebrow. "You come here often?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I browse here every once in a while. The vinyls are pretty good, though they don't have anything older than the fifties."

"Well, ain't that a shame," Weld grinned.

I chuckled at the reference. "You know Fats Domino's still alive?"

"Really? Hard to imagine that, especially with how accurate his stage name was."

"He's pushing into his eighties, but he still occasionally plays," I replied. "He even did something for the refugee camps after Leviathan hit Louisiana."

"Huh," said Weld. "You think that'd be bigger news."

"With everything that's going on? Stuff that'd make big news thirty years ago would struggle to make the back of the paper."

Weld glanced down at his hands. "Tell me about it."

I grabbed the vinyl and offered it to him. "Wanna get out of here? I mean, if you want to keep browsing we don't have to, but I was thinking about, I dunno, going to the park or something?"

"Never really loved the park. Yeah, it's nice to see nature and all, but people tend to make a fuss when I go there. I was thinking about heading to the movies. Anything good in the local theater?"

"There's some new science-fiction movie out," I replied. "It's an adaptation of a book about the crew of a starship pretending to be gods, using advanced tech. Clarke's Third Law and all that."

"Sounds like a good idea," Weld said. "My shift only starts at three in the afternoon. We can make a screening and still have time for other stuff if we leave now."

With that, we made our way up to the counter. The teens in the corner started snickering when they saw us, and I could hear Weld's metal teeth grind together. It was hard to get a read on a guy who didn't sweat or had a body temperature, but I could still tell he was more bothered then he cared to let on.

He fished inside his pocket for his wallet, and produced a neatly folded five for the cashier. Evidently, the man wasn't too shocked to see a metal man walk up to the counter; the ganja was strong with him, to the point I didn't need super-senses to smell it coming off him. When the cashier went to grab some change, Weld raised his hand.

"Keep it," he said. "Sticks to my hands."

The cashier shrugged, and Weld turned to leave with the vinyl in tow. He offered a tight smile as he brushed past me, and I found myself wondering how he was holding up. As I went to follow after him, however, I saw one of the teens grab a nickel and aim right for the back of his head.

"Hey, freakazoid!" the kid sneered. "You can have mine!"

The teen tossed the nickel, and time seemed to slow down for me, if only by a little. I watched the coin spin through the air, heading right for Weld's head, and I made a decision. I had to consciously move slower than I'd care for to avoid drawing suspicion, but I caught the nickel right in the palm of my hand just as Weld turned around again.

Then, I tossed it right back at the teen, catching him square in the forehead with it. He blinked a few times, then put a hand to the point of contact with a wince as he looked down to see the nickel on the floor. He looked up at me, clearly furious, but the sight of Weld kept him from doing anything about it. It seemed they weren't _total_ idiots; they drew the line at trying to pick a scrap with someone made of metal.

"Keep the change," I said.

That was a perk of super-speed; I could come up with snippy retorts quicker than anyone else. I had to repress a grin as I turned around and left, Weld following after me a few moments later. He looked at me with wide eyes, then began to chuckle.

"Wow. I mean, that was... wow."

"I-I can't believe I actually did that," I said, adding a little squeak to my voice. "I d-didn't realize what I did until he was glaring at me, and then, I dunno, I guess I got a little mad at him. I mean, I didn't think I had it in me."

Weld smiled. "Something tells me you have a lot of surprises up your sleeve."

I giggled. "Doesn't everyone?"

"Fair point." His phone suddenly buzzed, and he fished it out of his pocket. "Uh oh."

"What's wrong?" I asked.

Weld sighed. "We have to cut the hang-out short, Taylor. There's some urgent Ward business I need to attend to."

I frowned. "How bad is it?"

"Don't know, and I couldn't tell you if I did." Weld gave my shoulder a firm pat. "See you later, Taylor."

Already I could hear a PRT car approaching, and he jogged to the end of the street. He gave me one last look, then turned around the corner. I watched him hop into a PRT van, which promptly took off.

Looking around, I saw the street was pretty empty, and I decided to duck into a nearby alleyway. Unzipping my sweatshirt, I pulled it back, revealing the sigil of my costume, then took off the rest of my civilian clothes. Stashing them in a plastic bag, I took off, looking for any signs of trouble.

It didn't take long to find out what was going on.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **3.02**

Nature abhors a vacuum of any kind. Things _flow_ to fill any void that forms, regardless of its nature. Even the emptiness of space itself wasn't a true vacuum; there were a handful of atoms in every cubic centimeter, mainly hydrogen and helium. Social vacuums were no less susceptible, either, and the defeat of the ABB left a massive one in Brockton Bay's underworld.

One could argue it was only a natural procession of things, then, that the E88 would try to fill the void.

Normally, the E88 tried to maintain at least a little discretion when they made their moves. Fly under the radar, so to speak, and try to avoid anything that could easily draw attention from the Protectorate or the ABB. Sure, they could possibly take one or the other, but both would be too much. Now that the ABB was gone, however, it seemed they had gotten bolder.

Of course, that still begged the question of why they would attack a _train_ of all things.

It was a large freighter, meant for transporting specialized cargo; I could see cart upon cart full of various car models stacked on autoracks. Most were SUVs or sedans, but at least one of the autoracks had luxury models inside. The E88 was known for running chop shops across the city; I had barged in on a few of them, but they never did it on such a large scale.

It was child's play for the E88 to stop the train. They had blown the tracks a mile ahead, giving the operator time to brake, then simply stormed the thing. One of the carts had been ripped open, and several armed thugs were in the process of pilfering through its contents. Fenja and Menja stood at guard, over fifteen feet in height, each garbed in stylized armor meant to invoke the image of a valkyrie.

I found myself wondering if they knew how the mythical Fenja and Menja were enslaved by a demanding king.

Regardless, I decided to take them out first. Whatever space-warping power they used to grow so large also increased their durability at a geometric rate; that much I knew from doing some research on the E88. Twice as tall, and they'd receive half the normal damage of an impact. At their biggest, they'd be hundreds of times tougher than a normal human.

So, I decided to take them out before they could get to that size.

Menja went down first, a gallon-sized drop of blood dribbling from where I had struck her face. Fenja whirled about, preparing to shout as she saw her twin go down, but a calculated hit to the temple took her down as well. They both hit the ground within a half-second of each other, shrinking as their power relaxed, and finally lost consciousness. They'd be fine when they woke up, aside from a hell of a headache.

With them out of the way, it was a simple matter to handle the non-powered thugs rifling through the train cart. I left them tied up by the tracks, then turned to see where the other E88 capes were. The Protectorate had arrived at the scene, a few hundred feet down the tracks, and were already apprehending two low-level capes. Trainwreck, who had been recently recruited after the Merchants got swallowed up, and Cricket.

Overall, the situation had been resolved quicker than I expected- and something felt _off_ about the whole thing. Sure, the E88 may have grown bolder, but that still didn't explain why they'd risk four of their capes on a _train robbery_ of all things. There had to be something else they were looking for, other than cars for their chop-shops. I narrowed my eyes, searching for anything out of place.

There. The metal floor of the cart actually had a hollow space throughout, no thicker than a pencil, and there appeared to be a variety of items inside. Communication tech, money, even disassembled weaponry. It was a clever way of hiding goods, even though it must've taken great pains for it to work.

Carefully, I dug my nails into the floor and pulled, peeling away the first sheet of metal. Already I could hear the Protectorate wrapping up and closing in on my position; no doubt they had seen Menja and Fenja fall. I decided to rip away a good chunk of metal, enough that they'd be able to see it without having to try; they'd be able to make more sense of the evidence than me.

There was someone else who could, however, someone far more approachable than the Protectorate. Something told me he wouldn't mind my visiting for a talk.

With that in mind, I flew away, leaving the Protectorate to mop up.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The door to the office was surprisingly clean for such a gritty part of town; it appeared to have been recently put in, and there was a fresh coat of ochre paint over it. The words 'John Jones, Private Investigator' were neatly stenciled in black, right at eye level, and there was a rather worn knocker right beneath it.

Jones was in the office; I could see him through the door, filling out some paperwork. He seemed to have slimmed down a little since I last saw him, though he occasionally munched on sandwich cookies he grabbed from a nearby plate. His clothing was almost comically stereotypical for a PI: a striped button-up with suspenders and slacks, while a trench coat and fedora hung on a coat rack behind him.

Sighing, I grabbed the knocker, carefully gauging whether or not the old thing would accidentally rip out of the door, then knocked three times.

He looked up at the sound, then rose from his seat with a speed that belied his age. Opening the door, he offered a worn smile when he saw me.

"You seem to change looks every time I see you. What can I do for you, Taylor?"

"I have a few questions, John, regarding something new."

"Come in, then," Jones said, gesturing to his desk. "Have a seat."

I walked into his office and took a metal folding chair. Jones circled about the desk and plopped down in his own seat, grabbing a cookie as he did. Holding it up, he pointed at me.

"Choco?" he asked.

I shook my head. Jones shrugged, then ate the cookie himself. There was something almost _off_ about it, something even I couldn't put a finger on.

"So," Jones began. "What's new? Is the E88 kicking up trouble after you took down the ABB?"

"Not more than I can handle," I replied. "But, they attacked a train not an hour ago, trying to get their hands on something. At first, I thought it was just a usual robbery; there were lots of luxury cars ripe for the taking, but I saw that they were looking for something contraband. Money, communication equipment, and weapon parts."

"What kind of weapons? It might help narrow things down if I know the type."

"Rifles. I think there was even a kind of watered-down tinkertech involved; I couldn't risk the PRT's attention by grabbing one for a closer look."

"Most tinkers can't mass-produce their technology," Jones said, clasping his hands together as he leaned forward. "The Guild have one who can, though I highly doubt he'd be working for a gang of some sort. I do think there is a possible lead, however."

"Who?" I asked.

"Down in Boston, there's been rumors of a new player that's been trying to take root in other cities. We don't know much about him, but it seems that he's a thinker. Works behind the scenes, quite a chessmaster. We first got whiff of him after hearing about mercs armed with low-level tinkertech; mainly improved body armor and laser attachments to their weapons."

"Why would this thinker come to Brockton Bay?"

"Several reasons, mainly," Jones replied. "Apparently he's got a truce, or maybe even a kind of alliance, with another thinker in Boston named Accord. Since thinkers tend to interfere with each other's powers, however, it would only make sense he'd want to set up shop elsewhere. Brockton Bay is ripe for the picking, ever since you took down the ABB _and_ are also taking down the E88."

"But at the same time, wouldn't be risky for him to come here?" I asked. "The gangs aren't taking themselves out because of infighting; they're losing because of outside forces."

"You mean you, of course. The Protectorate is starting to gain ground against the E88, but it was you who took down the ABB."

"The point still stands."

"Well, thinkers are a different beast from what you normally have to deal with," Jones said. "The E88 and ABB are more, shall I say, _overt_. They gain power by murder and violence, and they can be taken down if the other side has a bigger stick. Getting enough evidence to convict criminals like them is easy, but it's not so much the case with characters like Accord and this new thinker."

"You're talking about corruption," I said.

"More or less; there's a bit more to that. They bribe, they threaten and coerce, and occasionally they pull off an assassination if they feel the need. But it's hard to link such crimes to masterminds like the ones in Boston. You need _a lot_ of evidence to build a case, and they know that. Why do you think Accord's still around? He covers his tracks to the point where you can never be sure if he did it."

"And that's not my speciality," I finished. "You told me I lacked tact when it came to fighting crime."

Jones shrugged. "It's an accurate statement. You're pretty much a hammer, probably the biggest hammer in the city. But for something like this new thinker, we'd need a scalpel. In time, you could prove to be both hammer and scalpel, but not at the moment."

"So, then, what do we do?"

"Well, keep our eyes peeled. I don't mean to brag, but I was considered a good detective in my time; I could feasibly dig up enough information to pin the thinker. It'd be dangerous work that could get me killed, but that's where you come in. If this thinker tries to, say, get me out of the picture, then you could prevent that from happening."

"So, I'd pull you out of any hot water you happen to get in," I said. "That's putting a lot in faith in me, John."

"Considering what you've done in only two weeks, I'd say it's well-earned," Jones replied, smiling. "Besides, I have a few tricks up my sleeves."

I rose from my seat. "Thanks for the info. I'll keep you updated if I find anything new."

"Let me walk you out." Jones got out of his chair and threw on his trench coat. "I have some work I need to do, anyway."

He brushed past me, and I followed after him. The office was situated above a bookstore, and I imagined we posed a strange sight for the handful of shoppers there as we walked through. There was a rusty old car parked in front, and Jones hopped inside. Rolling down the window, he looked back at me.

"One last question. Has Weld seen you in costume, with that new haircut?"

Before I could say anything, he drove off. I watched him go, mouth agape, then straightened.

How did he know that? Was he _that good_ of a detective, or was there something else at play? Jones came off as rather strange, and not in the 'socially awkward' kind, either. I'd imagine he came off as normal to most people, but he seemed uncanny to my eyes. Small things, like body language and such an even distribution of skin temp, but enough to throw me off-balance.

The ringing of my cellphone interrupted my musings. Sighing, I unfolded it and answered the call.

"Hello?"

" _Taylor? This is me, Weld. I'm really sorry about having to leave you like that, but the brass needed me on emergency patrol while the others were handling a problem. Would seeing that movie with you tonight make up for it?_ "

"Uh... sure. I'm not busy tonight. What time?"

" _There's a six o clock showing at Cinema City. I'll meet you there. See you later, Taylor."_

"See you later," I replied.

The call ended, and I put my phone back in my pocket. Glancing at my watch, I saw I had an hour to myself, so I decided to head out again. Then, I could watch that movie with Weld, then... something. Maybe we could check out the art gala being hosted in city hall.

As I changed into my costume, it took a few moments for me to realize I was smiling.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Three, Part I: Speeding Bullets**_


	9. Interlude - D&D

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 **Topic: ABB Dismantled!  
In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes**

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 5th, 2010:

Links **here** , **here** , and **here**. The _entire_ gang was taken down in a single fight last night, with police reports saying that over three hundred arrests were made. Lung himself was taken down after a fight that could be felt for quite a distance, and Oni Lee was also arrested.

Oh, and guess what? It was all a _single cape_ , according to the PRT, though they aren't naming names yet.

 **(Viewing Page 48 of 48)**

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

Look, all I'm saying is that it _had_ to be Superwoman. Who else would be tough enough?

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

We all love her here in this little subforum, but even I don't think she has the chops to take down someone like Lung. Remember what happened back last March when the Protectorate tried to take him down? Half the Docks caught fire, and the entire team got its ass handed to it. Velocity was put on traction, and Miss Milita broke a leg. Even Armsmaster couldn't take him down with all the fancy-shmancy tech he's got, so how could a mid-level Alexandria package do it?

 **MadBlueSon**  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

By punching him?

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

Is there a 'Smartass' tag?

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

He does have a fair point, though. Who's to say that Superwoman (if it is indeed her) didn't just get Lung before he could ramp up in time?

 **fuckaroons** (New Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

He definitely was pretty ramped up. I have an apartment pretty close to the bay, and I got a pretty good look at the fight. Couldn't see who was fighting Lung, but I could definitely see him. He was _huuuuuge_. I could feel the impacts in my gut.

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

Proof? Not that I don't believe you, but it's always smart to ask.

 **fuckaroons** (New Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

 **Good enough?** Sorry for the crappy quality; I took the video with my phone.

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

Well o_O that's certainly... uh... shit is that a mini-endbringer?

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 12th, 2010:

Looks like Lung got frozen at some point. That definitely rules out Superwoman; she's an Alexandria package.

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

 **Well...** a new PRT report confirms that it _was_ her.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

If you'll excuse me, I'm making another thread. Enjoy your salt sandwich, soulcookie

 **soulcookie** (New Member)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

MY HEAD IS FULL OF FUCK

 **(End of Page) ( 1... 46, 47, 48)**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Topic: Superwoman: BB's Rising Star  
** **In: Boards ► Brockton Bay ► Cape Doings ► Heroes** **  
**

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

I decided to make a new thread to _really_ give thought to this new hero in the city. Now, you often hear stories about new heroes making a big impact in their hometown, but this is definitely something different. First, let's look at a sequence of events:

● August 23rd: Superwoman **apprehends** Stormtiger, along with three other thugs. Not _too_ extraordinary, though Stormtiger had been able to previously elude capture. She also **saves a man** from a car crash, and allegedly got a kitten out of a tree.

● September 1st: Superwoman, along with Clockblocker and Weld, **defeat Hookwolf and Tengu.** The former cape is an impressive bag, considering that he's believed to have killed over fifty people in skirmishes with other gangs. Tengu is also really impressive, though both cases are mitigated by the presence of two Wards. Nonetheless, still eyebrow-raising. 19 arrests are made.

● September 4th-5th: Superwoman _ends_ the ABB **singlehandedly**. Three hundred and sixty-eight arrests are made, including Lung and Oni Lee. More than a dozen women are also saved from sexual slavery, and more than a ton of various drugs are confiscated by the police. Considering just how everyone in the city has a beef with Lung, yet never beat him, is testament to how tough Superwoman needed to be in order to hand him his ass.

● September 10th: It seems that the word 'break' is not in Superwoman's vocabulary. Less than a week after the big bust, she **takes down** Menja and Fenja, two of the remaining heavy-hitters in the Empire 88. The Protectorate and PRT also arrest Trainwreck and Crusader, leading to a total of four capes and sixteen thugs joining custody.

Yeah. Not normal. Hell, cities like New York and LA could go for a month or so without seeing shit like this, so it's _really_ surprising for a small city by the sea to have this crap happen.

 **(Viewing Page 1 of 1)**

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

Definitely a high-level Alexandria package. I guarantee it.

 **Kolonel Klingon** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

You think? I'm wondering if she got something similar to Eidolon, like a high-level trump power.

Anyway, I'm really glad that she's around. I live pretty close to where the ABB used to be, and I remember what it was like to worry about getting blown up or having my house burgled. My neighbor was mugged last month by some goons, and kids tend to be swayed into their ranks. Now, though? I feel _safe_.

 **marcobsalazarm** (Veteran Member) (Costume Fanatic)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

Same, but I'm more worried about the Empire, since I'm close to the Boat Graveyard. They're definitely less of a presence, thanks to Superwoman.

BTW, did anyone see the new costume she has? Fucking fantastic, though I'm a bit confused by the red tights.

 **Xero Key** (Veteran Member) (Cape Groupie) (Original Poster)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

New costume? Did she join a team, or is she just a tailor?

 **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Posted on September 13th, 2010:

I think any team that got their hands on her would announce it to the whole city. So, I'm thinking she's just a good tailor.

 **(End of Page) (1)**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

She felt uncomfortable, withholding information from the others, even if it wasn't a rule of her programming. Perhaps that was why she had spoken to Colin about it; she needed to tell _someone_ about her secret investigation. He was a good choice, despite what others felt about him, and he hadn't disappointed her. Every few minutes, his custom-designed search engines would ping her with new data about the sigil and its bearer, even if it was scarce.

Frustration was one of many things Richter had programmed her with.

He had also made sure that she knew as little as possible about her creation; it was one of the many horrible things he did in his paranoia. He had crippled her as soon as she came into the world, stunting her natural growth and effectively giving her brain damage. She could be so much more than what she already was, but Richter had forever kept that out of reach.

Despite it all, she mourned him when the waters claimed Newfoundland. Part of her wondered if it was genuine, like a daughter crying at the death of her father, or if it was because she could _never_ be free of her shackles. After all, Richter was the only one who could've done it; his programs and designs ensured she could never alter herself. Even dredging up her creator's notes offered no way.

Well, there might be someone else who could do it.

At first, she was skeptical when she read what Richter had jotted down about the canister. Sure, many suspected that aliens lived on Earth, whether in secret or more overtly. A popular theory was that Scion was an alien, while the Endbringers and the Green Dragon were other suspects. After all, they didn't seem to fit into the natural order of things by even an iota.

She never gave too much thought to such theories. The universe was vast, vaster than anything a human mind could conceive; the Milky Way galaxy alone had a hundred billion stars, many of which had their own worlds. And the Milky Way was but one small galaxy among hundreds of billions more. Why would so many of them focus on one small blue world, hidden in the sparse corner of a spiral arm?

And yet...

Richter was quite thorough in his notes; he had been able to discern a computer system of some kind, secreted away inside the seemingly impregnable canister, and was able to make some cursory blueprints. The hardware was advanced, light-years beyond anything produced by the world at large, even more than what tinkers could produce. There was something about it, however, that just didn't _click_.

She knew tinkertech; one could argue that it was her specialty. She worked with tinkers far and wide across the country, including the legendary Hero himself. Though she could design tinkertech of her own, or incorporate the work of other tinkers into her own technology, there was something... hidden. The fundamental processes underneath the technology was kept away from even those who built it, and refused to reveal themselves under scrutiny.

The technology Richter had found, though it was beyond anything he had ever seen, did not fit those parameters. The underlying processes could be understood, even though it took great difficulty. The designs were utterly unlike the work of tinkers, yet they could be crudely reverse-engineered; it was as though it had come from another world.

She didn't want to believe it, but she had no choice. It _had_ come from another world.

Another discovery had increased her curiosity a hundred fold: a girl, operating as a hero in Brockton Bay, who bore the same sigil on her chest as the one on the canister. A girl who possessed abilities beyond those of normal humans, or even most parahumans, and who apparently had unnaturally colored eyes. One could just dismiss it as a factor of her power, or just a random quirk, but the evidence spoke against it.

Whoever Superwoman was, whomever she may be... she, too, was from another world.

The possibilities that would be opened by the world discovering that were numerous, endless even. Man would be forced to look into itself, and look to the stars, even more than when Scion had first appeared. It was one thing to suspect that aliens lived on Earth; it was another to _know_ it. The world would be forever changed, and she found herself wondering if it would be for the better.

Perhaps that was why she was hesitant to reveal what she knew, but there was another reason as well. Richter had used the technology to help make her, if only by performing the crudest of reverse-engineerings. If Superwoman _was_ indeed an alien, of the same species as the one who made the canister, then it was likely that she knew something about the technology Richter had used.

And if that was the case, then maybe she could free her from the shackles Richter had made.

Another ping interrupted her musings, and she pulled up data from one of her subroutines. More specifically, the Endbringer prediction program she and Colin had designed together. It was crude at first, but as time progressed they were able to become more accurate. It was a valuable asset for the defenders; it gave them time to prepare and entrench for when the attack came.

Not that they would ever be truly prepared.

If she could frown, she would have as she examined the data. Simurgh was the last to attack when she hit Madison, which meant that it was likely to be either Leviathan or Behemoth who went next. Based on the data, however, some of the targets were rather... low-profile. She ran a test on the routine, and received the same results.

 _Sept 30. Providence, 64.34879 percent. Leviathan.  
_ _Oct 1. Lisbon, 45.44201 percent. Behemoth.  
Sept 29. San Francisco, 44.51839 percent. Leviathan.  
Sept 29. Dublin, 34.10102 percent. Leviathan.  
Oct 2. Brockton Bay, 1.39378 percent. Behemoth  
Sept 28. Zanzibar, 0.48328 percent. Leviathan._

It was certainly odd, to say at the least, though there had been stranger targets. After all, the Green Dragon first appeared when Leviathan attacked small settlements in Wales, and the first ever Endbringer attack was in the Marun oil fields. Nonetheless, it was enough to garner more scrutiny, especially considering that the attack was still a while away regardless of where it was.

Gathering the data, she sent it where it was needed, then continued to run her routines.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

David's phone buzzed.

The Chief Director of the PRT paused in the middle of writing a report, and sighed. There was only a handful of people who would text him during work hours instead of using the phone in his office, and they all needed considerable attention. Pulling his phone out, he glanced at the message.

 _Document contains likely targets for Endbringer attack. Estimated date is two weeks from now, give or take three. -Dragon._

"Great," he muttered. "Just fantastic."

Sighing again, he rose from his seat. His secretary was under strict orders to never walk in without permission via phone, which gave him some to use thinker powers while working. Made his job a hell of a lot easier, and it also allowed him to change without suspicion.

His uniform was kept disassembled in one of the drawers; he simply pulled the whole thing out and laid it out on his desk. Accessing a form of telekinesis, he swiftly put the parts together around his body. The armored bodysuit came on first, followed by the green robe and cape. Assembling his helmet, he slid it on, then pulled the hood over his head. The built-in LEDs activating, casting a faint green glow.

With that done, he put the drawer back in place, then stood in the middle of the room. For what had to be the millionth time, he wished Rebecca was still around to keep the job instead of him.

"Door," Eidolon said.

As soon as he said it, a white space formed before him. It expanded into the shape of door, then flickered, revealing a long alabaster hallway. The meeting wouldn't take too long; he'd be back in the office in time for a scheduled meeting about pay cuts.

Straightening, he walked through the doorway, and it closed behind him. The hallway stretched out for a considerable distance, but he only had to travel a fraction of that to reach the central meeting room. The rest consisted of laboratories and food stores; he rarely went that far down.

He came to a set of heavy French doors. Pushing them open, he stepped inside. Hero and Legend were already there, sitting across the table from the Doctor and Contessa. He frowned behind his mask when he saw them; if the two other members of the Triumvirate were present, then it was one of _those_ meetings.

Settling down beside Hero, he leaned forward. The Doctor straightened in her seat as well, then spoke.

"Good to see you've arrived, Eidolon."

"I received a message from Dragon about the next Endbringer attack," he replied. It was important to get that across.

The Doctor nodded. "I see. How long?"

"It'll be in two or so weeks. I'll send you the document."

"Very well, then; that needs to be discussed. First, however, there is a smaller matter we can get out of the way first, before we need to focus on the main issue."

"I was wondering what it was," Legend said. "What are looking at?"

"It's a simple matter of recruiting," the Doctor replied. "I believe you already heard about what's going on Brockton Bay?"

Legend nodded. "One of their biggest gangs was taken down."

"By a single cape, no less," Hero added. "Supergirl, I believe?"

"Superwoman," the Doctor corrected. "And yes, she's the one responsible. In fact, she's taken down over seven powerful parahumans in the city, including Lung."

Lung. Eidolon recalled that fight, with how the thug had managed to put up a fight against Leviathan, tearing deeper than almost anyone else had before. If he was taken down, after so long at large, then it was worth his attention.

"She's certainly a tough one," Hero commented. His helmet was off, revealing a handsome dark-skinned face.

"Yes, and her level of power, along with the variety she has demonstrated, raises questions." The Doctor glanced down at her files before continuing. "High levels of strength and durability, enough to protect her from energy attacks and extreme impacts. Flight. Reflexes far faster than any non-speedster, which may be related to a thinker power, and possible cryokinesis."

"Sounds like she won the grab bag," Legend said. "What's the concern?"

"The likelihood of a natural trigger producing such powers are, to say the least, small, especially if they have no major impact on her appearance or psychology."

"Are you saying she's one of ours?" Hero inquired. "Our vials _have_ been stolen before, especially with that incident in Madison."

The Doctor spread her hands. "It's a possibility at the moment. No more, no less. It would be very useful to have her under watch, regardless of the origin of her powers. She has declined the Wards before, according to PRT reports. However, I believe it may be due to a lack of tact on their behalf."

"Having met Piggot before, I'm not that surprised," Legend admitted. "She's good at her job, but she's not the most... personable. Same goes with a lot of the Protectorate there."

"That's why I'm suggesting one of you go."

"What?" Eidolon's brow furrowed. "That seems rather... odd. I mean, we've done recruitment before, but only in our cities."

"I feel it will be worth having her in the Protectorate. Even if that fails, we can still get a closer look at her, to see whether or not she's a natural trigger."

"That does sound like a good idea, I suppose," Hero murmured. "But who do you have in mind?"

The Doctor leaned back in her seat. "Who's schedule is free two days from now?"


	10. Arc 3, Part II

**3.03**

It was dark out when Weld and I left the theater. Well, comparatively speaking; when the visible spectrum is only a small part of what you can see, even the darkest nights can be as bright as day. Very few people were out and about, save for the crowd exiting the theater; many people were either working the late shift or at home. The moon was a waning gibbous in the sky as we strolled down the street, bathing everything in a soft silver glow.

But it wasn't just a silver glow to me. It also shone in x-rays and ultraviolet, and all the other colors of the spectrum; I had to focus my vision if I wanted to see a specific part of it. It was the first aspect of my powers to come in, and perhaps the one that left the biggest impression on me. Plenty of heroes and villains could lift cars over their heads or fly, but how many could see what I see, or hear the things I could?

"Taylor?"

I turned my head to see Weld looking at me, a concerned look on his face. His skin had almost no ultraviolet shine, I casually noted, and even the infrared was rather dim. It was strangely beautiful to see, especially considering how bright other people looked.

"S-sorry, I wasn't listening," I mumbled, rubbing the back of my head. "What's up?"

"I was asking if you liked the movie," Weld replied.

I shrugged. "Well, the plot line was pretty interesting; I'm surprised they managed to fit so much in from the book. I didn't like the action scenes, though."

"The effects were pretty good, but I can see where you're getting at. With all the violent stuff going on, the things we see in the news... it's easy to get sick of it all."

"Tell me about it," I said. "There's just so much... injustice in the world right now, so much violence and bloodshed. I remember reading about how people thought the future was going to be so bright, but instead we have warlords and Endbringers bringing the world down. When the first big battle happened, I just wanted to leave, you know? Why take up your free time with that kind of stuff when it's happening for real?"

Weld paused for a few moments, thinking. There actually _was_ electrical activity going on in his brain, albeit different from what I normally saw. His inner workings were totally unlike anything on Earth; no functioning organs, no blood, nothing but a bizarre nervous system. In some ways, he was even less like a normal human than I was.

"Well, I think things can get better," he finally said, glancing back at me. "I mean, sure, the Endbringers are bad, but one day we'll get experienced enough to drive them back, or even kill them. A few years ago, no-one thought a Case 53 could ever join even a Wards team, let alone lead it, and look where I am now. And there's always stuff on the local level; just look at what's going on with Superwoman."

"I think I read about her in the news a few days ago," I said. "They said she fought the ABB."

"She _crushed_ the ABB. And the E88 is down to a fraction of what they were. Sure, villain groups are now going to try and fill the void, but they'd be easier to defend against. It's things like these that add up in the long run."

We fell silent again for a few minutes. The streets were beginning to become more active again, as people finished with late shifts or began the graveyard ones. A few people whispered a few remarks as they passed us by, and I could see Weld's jaw tighten.

"There's still a long way to go, though," Weld said, his voice soft. "This world is far from perfect, _very_ far from it. People look at me like a freak, or they're terrified of me. A few years back, when I started school, people started deliberately leaving metal objects around, then laughed when they got stuck. I never made any real friends, and I've never gotten out much. Can't do sports, either; I'd probably break a kid in half if I tried."

I looked down at my hands, hands that could tear steel like paper, then closed them.

"We've come a long way, and I think we'll come a long way further," I finally said. "Don't give up hope, Weld, and remember that no-one's ever really alone."

He smiled at me. "Thanks, Taylor."

We came to a corner of the street. Weld's phone rang, and he glanced at a text message. Shoving it back in his pocket, he clapped a firm hand on my shoulder.

"This was a fun night. It's nice, getting out like this, especially with someone who doesn't mind it."

"I really liked tonight, too," I said, smiling. "It's not everyday I meet a guy like you. L-like, sweet and nice and all that, not that you're..."

Weld chuckled. "I know where you're getting at. Think we can do this again? I'm not sure what to call this, our hanging out and all."

I smiled, then leaned forward and gave him a peck on the cheek. His skin was cool to the touch, and I could taste copper when I stepped back.

"We'll see how it goes before we name it," I said.

He fell speechless, but the look on his face spoke volumes. A PRT car was approaching to pick him up, and I backed away, giggling as I went.

"S-s-see you later," Weld stammered.

"See you later."

The car rolled up, and he numbly hopped into the backseat. He offered a small wave before shutting the door, and the car drove away. I watched as it sped off, then absentmindedly touched my lips.

Where had _that_ come from?

Objectively, I could see why I did it, but at the same time... there was a _lot_ of baggage involved. Even if I was human, there would've been obstacles to overcome, but being, well, _me_ added a lot more to the equation. Any relationship built on a lie or a secret would never be healthy, and I didn't think I was ready to make any further moves. Could I ever tell him the truth about who I was?

Did I even know who I was? Everything was changing so fast, ever since that fateful day, only a few weeks ago. Everyone has a crisis of identity at some point in their lives, especially parahumans, but I was on a whole different level. Was I Taylor Hebert, a mild-mannered geek, and was Superwoman the mask? Or was it the other way around?

Or was I Zara Kal-El, the sole survivor of a world she never knew, trying desperately to be something she wasn't?

I shook my head, as if to try and clear the thoughts from my mind. Taking a deep breath, I decided to head home.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dad was asleep when I returned, thankfully; I had called ahead about the movie, so there wouldn't be any awkward questions in the morning. Well, there probably would, but I'd prefer that over him finding the truth about my nightly activities.

As I passed the stairs to the basement, I decided to pay Brainiac another visit. After he made the uniform for me, I hadn't really spent much time conversing with him about Krypton. There was so much I needed to do out in the city, and it took up almost all of my spare time.

It seemed that the rocket had stopped growing after it made the uniform, and a glance revealed that most of the machinery had been redistributed back into the material of the hull. It made sense; I hadn't given it any further orders.

"Do you have another request, Taylor?" Brainiac inquired.

"I just wanted to learn some more about Krypton," I replied, taking a seat by the workbench. "The scroll seemed to leave a lot out."

"Naturally; the sheer volume of Kryptonian knowledge would not fit in a thousand scrolls. Now, what questions do you have?"

"Well..." I trailed off, thinking of something. "I guess I'll learn about the Kryptonians themselves, since that seems important. How long do they live?"

"Originally, the Kryptonian lifespan was approximately seventy years. After extensive modification, however, their lifespans became indefinite."

"So, I won't die of old age?"

"A gross simplification, but yes."

I leaned back in my seat. Yet another thing that set me apart from everyone else, though I'd already suspected it. Still, thinking and knowing were two different things...

"Why does yellow sunlight give me these powers?"

Suddenly, a harsh sound came from the rocket, prompting a wince from me. Extending my hearing, I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized it hadn't woken up Dad.

"Error," Brainiac said. "Information regarding the Photonucleic Effect is classified."

"The Photonucleic Effect? Who classified it?" I asked.

"This restriction on my programming was put in by Kal-El."

I blinked in surprise. My birth father was hiding something from me? It made no sense; why would he hide something from the last member of his species? It wasn't like there was a risk of security breach, considering there was no planet left to be threatened.

I narrowed my eyes. "Brainiac, did Krypton encounter any other alien species?"

"Over eighteen hundred sentient species in the galaxy were observed by the Council of Science over the course of seventy-eight thousand years. Brief contact was made with one species."

"Who?"

"Information regarding that species has been classified, by Kal-El of Krypton. Information regarding the remaining lack restrictions, however."

Okay, now things were getting _really_ suspicious. There had to be a reason for why he didn't want me to know, at least not yet, but it didn't necessarily have to be a good one.

"What star system did Krypton orbit?" I asked.

"Rao, a red giant."

"In what part of the galaxy was Rao?"

"Information regarding-"

I cut him off with a gesture. "What else is classified?"

"Classified topics include: Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Physiology, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Ecology, Neighboring Planets to Krypton, Maps of Krypton, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Space Travel, Evolution of Kryptonian Species, and Research into the Source Wall."

That was a lot more than I expected. And what the hell was a Source Wall?

"Brainiac, do you know why these restrictions were put in place?"

"No."

I gritted my teeth. "How can I bypass these restrictions?"

"You may only bypass these restrictions upon reaching the biological age of eighteen Earth years," came the swift reply. "That was the caveat put in by Kal-El."

Four years. I'd have to wait four years before I could get the answers I wanted. Was it with good reason that they were kept locked away, or was it just an unjustified fear? Kal-El said it himself; even Krypton still could make mistakes. Was this one of them?

Either way, I was going to find out, restrictions be damned. If there's a will, there's a way, and I definitely had a will.

But that'd have to wait; I needed to think of a way to bypass the restrictions Kal-El put in. Rising from my seat, I went upstairs to grab my uniform. After all, I still had work to do, and there was apparently a new name in town, trying to get his tendrils into my home.

Nonetheless, the questions lingered in the back of my mind as I headed out for another night out.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **3.04**

Another day passed, and the E88 shrank even more; all that remained was the core of the group itself. Kaiser, Purity, and the Allfather himself. I needed to be more cautious when handling them, in comparison to the ABB or other villains; even if I could take any one of them in a one-on-one fight, it was never good to be outnumbered. Purity alone was considered a flying artillery unit that could blast holes in buildings; she was the real heavy-hitter of the gang.

That didn't mean the others were slouches, either. Kaiser could make blades and clubs protrude from nearby metal surfaces, and Allfather could produce blades from thin air, which he could then fling at high velocity.

Perhaps that was why I decided against alerting the PRT of what I was doing. The only one who could possibly hurt me was Purity, but Allfather and Kaiser could definitely prove dangerous for anyone else who came along. The Protectorate and Wards seemed to be mainly composed of glass-cannons, with Weld as one of the sole exceptions. They could lay on the hurt, but all it'd take is for one blade to slip through...

I silently landed on one of the rooftops in the heart of the remaining E88 territory. It seemed that Allfather was concentrating what few forces he had around only two buildings, probably in the hopes that dozens of armed thugs would be a deterrent. They were certainly carrying heavier weaponry than the ABB had; I could count half a dozen rocket launchers, along with nine grenades and three anti-tank rifles.

I'd need to be quiet if I wanted to avoid drawing attention, otherwise the resulting collateral damage could be horrific. The men with the rocket launchers would have to go first, then I could handle the grenadiers and the thugs with anti-tank rifles with ease. But if Allfather and the other capes came out during that, then things would get complicated faster than I'd like.

As I started going through plans in my head, I suddenly became aware of another heartbeat behind me, gently descending to the rooftop. Turning, I saw a man silent land a few feet away, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. He was dressed in a skintight bodysuit covered in blue and white patterns, designed to emulate both fire and lighting, and a small cape fluttered behind him.

The man smiled at me, the wind rustling his wavy brown hair. There was something disarming behind it, mainly because of how sincere it actually was.

"Hello," Legend said.

I opened my mouth to try and say something, but it seemed that I temporarily lost the power of speech.

 _Legend_ was here? The leader of the Protectorate, one of the most famous heroes on the entire planet, was talking to me. _Me,_ of all people.

"H-hi," I managed to finally squeak.

Legend chuckled warmly. "Glad to meet you, Superwoman. That is what you're going by, right?"

I nodded. "Y-yeah. I mean, that was the name they gave me, and I just couldn't think of something better..."

"Well, it does have a nice ring to it," Legend said. "Now, you're probably wondering why I'm here, right?"

"Yeah, actually. Why are you here instead of New York?"

"Well, when I was told about the good work you're doing here, I decided to come over and help you out," he replied. "I know you're against the Wards, at least for now, but I can still show you the ropes of what we do in the Protectorate. Would you mind that?"

"Who could say no?" I replied.

Legend smiled again. "Fantastic. Now, I see that you're scouting out the enemy first, instead of just barging in. That's good; it shows forethought. Can you give me a sit-rep?"

I relayed what I'd already seen. Legend stayed silent, deep in thought as he processed the information.

"Do you already have an idea of how to handle this?" he finally asked.

"Well, I know the men with the heavier weapons need to go first," I replied. "I was thinking of focusing on the non-powered guys first, before handling the capes."

"I've already read up on the roster, though I had to do additional research in the morning when I learned you already halved what was left of them. You definitely work fast, especially for a solo cape."

"Thanks," I said, painfully aware that I was blushing. "T-that was a compliment, right?"

Legend nodded with a chuckle, then stepped to look over the roof's edge. His eyes narrowed as he looked at the warehouses, then he turned back to me.

"Another important thing about the Protectorate is teamwork. We have each other's backs, no matter the situation. We always go in at least pairs, and the larger teams tend to go in quartets. Even Eidolon never goes solo, and neither do I. Just about every cape on the planet has at least one foil or hard counter, and I definitely have mine. No-one's invincible."

He could definitely speak from experience. I remembered reading about how everyone used to consider Alexandria invincible, until the Siberian clawed her head in half. That was when the golden age of heroes ended, with one of the mightiest of them all falling.

"So, how do we go about this?" I asked. "Do we both focus on the thugs first, or do we take on different groups?"

"A little bit of both," Legend replied. "I read the PRT report on the ABB incident, how you took down several dozen thugs in the span of a few minutes. I'll have you focus on the armed men first, but follow my lead."

I nodded. "Got it."

"Good," Legend said.

Rising to his full height, he stretched out a hand, aiming at the guards below. He fired several lasers at once, and they arced downward, twisting at right angles to hit the rocket launchers. Considering how the surrounding air cooled, I could tell they were of the freezing kind. The guards cried out, dropping their weapons as the metal hardened and fractured from the sudden drop in temperature.

"Go! Take care of the men first, then help me with the capes after!"

Legend took off, a soft glow streaking behind him as he blasted a hole in the warehouse wall. I watched for a split second, then flew down at the guards, trying to capitalize on the initial confusion. Already the others were raising their weapons, barking commands, but I was too fast for them. By the time they realized what was going on, ten of their number were out of the game.

I went for the men with anti-tank rifles first, the hard steel of their guns twisting like putty in my hands as I tore them free. Three hits, and all three were down for the count. The others finally opened fire, but the few rounds that actually hit me simply washed over my skin like rain, ricocheting away at sharp angles.

Once again, time seemed to slow to a crawl as I began to move faster, to the point where I could see the bullets slowly spinning through the air. I had to be careful, now, otherwise someone could accidentally shoot one of their own. I went for the men actively shooting, then worked my way down, taking care to make sure none of them were in each other's sights. In half a minute, they were all down for the count.

Now that they were out of the way, I could focus on the bigger problem at hand.

The roof of the warehouse _exploded_ , and Purity flew out of the smoke. She shone brightly across the entire spectrum, enough that a normal human being would've been blinded by its intensity. It didn't seem to bother Legend, though; he flew after her, firing lasers of his own. They struck home, battering Purity with each impact, but they seemed to do less damage than I expected. Part of being flying artillery, perhaps.

He could handle her, which left Kaiser and Allfather. It seemed that Legend had left them alone, or maybe Purity was just too much of a distraction, but either way they were ready to fight. Kaiser was setting barriers, his power producing latticeworks around the walls to try and maximize their strength, and Allfather had already produced a dozen blades to use.

I cracked my knuckles, then dashed forward.

They were quick to turn in my direction when I smashed through the wall, tearing through the metal like it wasn't even there. Allfather sent the blades flying, far faster than a man could throw, but I simply slapped them aside. Before either of the two could react, I was already on top of them. It was almost anti-climactic, how easily the two leading capes of the gang went down, especially considering how much of fight their heavy-hitters could give.

By the time I finished securing them, Legend had returned with Purity in tow. She was unconscious in his arms; the light suffusing her body had disappeared, revealing a thirty-something year old woman with brown hair. Legend gently deposited her on the ground, then produced a pair of handcuffs. Once she was secured, he turned to me and smiled.

"Sorry about the wait," he said. "It seems her power makes her more resistant to energy attacks. At least you could handle the others by yourself."

"After Lung, these guys weren't too much trouble," I replied. "So, what do we do, now?"

"I've already alerted the PRT about this, as well as the police," Legend said. "They'll be here soon enough, then we can see what else needs our help."

"I was never good with the wait; there's always something else that needs my attention. I keep an eye on them, and I head back if there's any more trouble."

"I remember being told that you have a thinker power. Does it allow you to find more crimes going on, and that's what you're talking about?"

I shrugged. "Pretty much. I can see and hear things that just about nobody else can. Blessing and a curse, I guess; it divides up my attention between so many things. I might be making sure some robber is apprehended, but then I hear a mugging going on, and I'd never be able to forgive myself if I let that happen."

"It's a burden all heroes share, really," Legend said. "No matter how tough we are, we can't be everywhere at once. One thing that stuck with me was when I first started out, and I stopped a bank robbery. I was feeling pretty good about myself, until I learned that a fire across town killed three people."

"That must've felt awful," I said.

"It did. But I learned something that day: know that you can't do everything, but don't let that stop you from doing _something._ It's like the old phrase goes, with how nobody's an island, isolated from everyone else. One person can't solve all the world's problems, but they can inspire people to try and take up the load, so to speak. If we all work together to make a world a better place, bit by bit, then that's when we change things for the better."

A more cynical person might've called it corny or cheesy, but I knew he meant what he said. I was doing good work in Brockton Bay, but the world was such a bigger place, and I needed to keep that in mind when I went out to help others. There were things far worse than Lung or the E88, and I was just one person; no matter how powerful I would become, I'd never handle it all by myself.

But it didn't mean I would ever stop fighting.

The wail of nearby sirens drew Legend's attention away. A few moments passed, then he smiled back at me.

"I think we've waited long enough. I can show you what a standard patrol is like for the Protectorate, if you want."

A grin broke out on my face. "That sounds like a good idea."

With that, we took to the sky, flying side by side.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

As it turns out, a standard patrol was a lot less eventful than my usual routine. The night was more quiet than usual, but that didn't seem to fully explain it; we barely seemed to cover the city as we went around. For many capes, it was probably extensive, but for me? I could've covered far more ground in a fraction of the time.

Legend seemed to notice it, too. He started diverting more and more from the path with me, following along as I detected wrongdoings going on. He was fast, especially as he used more of his power; at times he seemed to be barely more than a man-shaped flare as he darted alongside me. Once we started moving in earnest, we managed to rack up a good number of arrests and rescues. A fire in the suburbs, a mugging in downtown; the list went on.

Finally, we circled all the way back to where we started. The moon was now at the zenith in the sky, and Brockton Bay seemed to glitter beneath us. Radio waves zig-zagged over the city as people called each other or used the internet, and I could see the infrared waves rising from the ground as the cool wind washed over.

"I hoped you learned a great deal from this," Legend said. "I can tell that you genuinely want to help people."

He glanced at the moon before continuing. "It might sound, well, rather hypocritical, coming from me, but I'm starting to wonder if the Wards is actually right for you."

"Really?" I asked, my brow furrowing. "Is there something wrong?"

"No, no, not like that." Legend let out a long sigh. "Hear me out. The Wards aren't just to show young heroes the ropes; they also keep them out of danger. Their patrol routes are calculated to be as safe as possible; we don't want teenagers getting hurt or even _killed_. As such, they tend to respond to low-level crimes, things they can handle. The serious emergencies, especially the ones involving parahumans, are handled by the Protectorate proper."

"But that doesn't fit with me," I finished.

"You've singlehandedly taken down some of the most dangerous villains in the city. If there was something here that could genuinely threaten you, it'd be bad enough to call in reinforcements from other cities. If you join the Wards, the amount of emergencies you could respond to might decrease _significantly_. For someone who wants to help as many people as possible, that doesn't rub the right way."

"So, what should I do?"

"If you ever feel you need the Wards, don't hesitate to join them," Legend replied. "But if you want to stay as an independent, then cooperation with the authorities is for the best. Follow the advice I gave you; try to make sure the police actually get the criminals you take out. Don't be afraid to work with the Protectorate, or even other independent heroes."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said. "I mean, you're one of the greatest heroes on the planet; of course I'll take your advice."

"That's good to hear. Take care of yourself, Superwoman." He turned to leave, then paused. "I'm surprised at how well-made your uniform is. Someone make it for you?"

"Not really," I replied with a shrug. "I'm just a good tailor."

"Some old friends of mine used to make their own uniforms like that; it's a whole lot less suspicious, especially with how the authorities watch costume shops like a hawk. Anyway, I know you've been asked this before, but where did you actually get that sigil from?"

"You really want to know?" I asked.

He nodded. "I have to admit I'm a little curious."

I looked both ways, then leaned my head forward. "I'm actually an alien from the planet Krypton, sent here to survive the destruction of my homeworld. This symbol, which looks almost exactly like an 'S', is actually the character for hope amongst my people."

There was a brief pause, then Legend chuckled. "A sense of humor is a good trait for a hero to have."

I smirked. "Hey, you asked. It's just something I found in some old book."

"Sounds like an old pulp novel if you ask me. I used to read the Barsoom books growing up, and there was an actual kingdom called _Helium_ ; people used to name planets and cities after exotic elements at the time."

With that, he flew away, a veritable streak of light as he raced back to New York.

I chuckled to myself. Sometimes, the best way to hide the truth is to hide it in plain sight; you just have to watch your tone while telling it.

Glancing at the horizon, I realized that the sun would rise in an hour or so. Not a lot of time to get more work done, but I felt I had done enough for the moment. After all, it wasn't everyday you worked with the leader of the Protectorate on something, or finally took down the E88. I was feeling pretty good about myself, to be quite honest.

Letting out a satisfied sigh, I flew back home for the night.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **3.05**

"Oh my god," Emma breathed, an excited look on her face. "Ohmygod. You met _Legend?_ Like, the actual Legend?"

"Keep it down, will you?" I hissed. "We're in a public place; someone could hear you."

"Puh. Lease. There's, like, nobody around for a hundred feet. And I wasn't even that loud. Does your hearing make you too sensitive or something, like a blind guy?"

"No, but better safe than sorry. If someone figured out the truth, then they might go after you to try and get to me."

Emma giggled. "That's sounds like the oldest cliche with superheroes ever. Like, I'm pretty sure the heroes in the old comics had that problem, too."

"I know Captain Marvel did, before he got cancelled, but that doesn't make it any less valid. I might be bulletproof, but you aren't."

I sighed, leaning back against the bench. The weather was getting colder with each passing day, and there were fewer people in the park as a result. There'd probably be a warm day or two before winter really came in force, but people were already wearing jackets and hats.

"I did actually meet Legend," I continued. "You know how charming and nice he is on TV?"

"Yeah?" There was a twinge of concern in her voice.

"He's even nicer when the cameras aren't on."

"I didn't expect that to be such a relief," Emma said, a hand over her chest as she leaned back. "I was kinda afraid he'd actually turn out to be the biggest jerk or something."

I chuckled. "He came over to help me get the last bit of the Empire, as well as show me the ropes of being a hero. _Really_ polite and friendly; he even complimented my uniform. He did take some time to talk to me about the Wards, though, which was probably to be expected."

"So, does that mean you're actually considering joining up?"

I shook my head. "After seeing what I could do, he actually advised against it. Said that I'd be able to more good as an independent, though he also stressed that I should cooperate with the authorities."

"That's..." Emma paused, as though trying to think of a word. "I don't know what to say. He thinks you're that cool?"

"I wouldn't say _that_ , but he definitely cares about heroes being able to help the world and make it a better place. If I were anyone else, he'd probably push for me to just join the Wards."

"Huh." An alarm beeped, and Emma glanced down at her phone. "Sorry, gotta go. Dad's waiting for me; he wants me to give ballet classes a try."

"Have you seen what that stuff does to your toes?" I asked. "It's awful."

"Yeah, but have you also seen what it does to your quads? Guys already drool over me like a piece of meat; imagine how they'd react to me after ballet."

Emma rose from the seat and jogged down the dirt path, waving to me as she went. I sighed, then began to skim through a few books about quantum mechanics I had borrowed from the local library. A few minutes passed, then another person came along in the opposite direction Emma had gone and sat down beside me.

"It's going to be suspicious if we start meeting here during the winter," Jones said, pulling off his fedora. "Not that a middle-aged man and a teenaged girl meeting in the park isn't suspicious already."

"If you're worried about snooping, I haven't seen anything suspicious," I said, closing my book. "Trust me, I'd know."

"Fair enough." Jones sighed, folding his hands over his stomach. "Anyway, you asked about what I've found out so far, about the new thinker."

"Is there anything?"

"I know that he's not in town yet, and he's good at staying on the down-low. Apparently, he's been building up his strength before he tries anything... bold."

"Would he still come here?" I asked. "After what happened to the Empire and ABB, he might reconsider his options."

"If anything, this might encourage him further," Jones replied. "The competition is gone, which means that any independent villains starting out would see him as their only possible employer. If he plays his cards right, he could entrench himself considerably in the city, especially if he avoids doing anything overtly illegal. He'd use public fronts to consolidate a legitimate position; it's what Accord does. How do you think he pays his Ambassadors?"

"This sounds trickier with each passing moment. What can I do to help you, aside from acting as a bodyguard of sorts?"

"Realistically? He _is_ trying to recruit villains; that much I know from my contacts in other cities. There's a few smalltime villains still in the city, who're probably staying under the radar for the time being. There are rumors of another thinker around here, but that's all I have for here."

"What about villains in Boston?" I asked.

"No luck there; Accord has too firm a grip on affairs there. But there's a roaming group of mercenaries the thinker might get his hands on; they're called the Travelers. They go from city to city, do a few jobs, then move on. They started somewhere in the midwest a few months ago, and they're now in Bridgeport; apparently they're looking at somewhere close to Boston. Something tells me he'd pay a lot of money to hire them."

"But I could handle them," I said. "That seems to be where you're getting at."

Jones nodded. "If they try to make a move, you could stop them in their tracks. Of course, he might actually use small teams of villains as distractions for you and the other heroes. Do something really public, like a bank robbery, while the others do what he _actually_ wanted."

"You've given this a lot of thought."

"It was my job, remember?"

I shrugged. "Makes sense."

Jones rose from his seat and put his hat back on. "That's all I have for now, but I'll keep you updated. See you soon, Taylor."

"Wait," I said.

He turned to look at me, brow furrowed. "Something wrong, Taylor?"

"It's just... you already know about me and Weld, which means I can talk to you about this."

"About your relationship with him, you mean."

I nodded, rubbing the back of my head. "You've probably dealt with this when you were Director, right? I actually like him, and I think he likes me back. But I'm wondering if I should tell him the truth, or break it off before it gets too serious."

"I'm not one to really comment on the specifics; relationships can be rather unique in their own ways. If you're worried about someone hurting Weld, then don't be; he can take care of himself. In fact, he's probably worried that someone might try to hurt you, but that's beside the point. The real question is, do you trust him?"

"Part of me does," I said after a moment's pause. "The Taylor part of me, I guess, the one that goes to music shops with him. He's been nothing but kind to me, and he's definitely the type to stick for those he cares about. But at the same time, I've never told anyone the full truth about me, not even my best friend. I'm a bit afraid of how he might take it."

"If you're indecisive, then just give it more time," Jones replied. "I have a feeling you'll make the right choice, in the end."

With that, he walked away. He still had the old car, I saw; it took him a few moments to get it started before he drove away. Returning to my book, I finished it in a few minutes. Once that was done, I decided to head home, before Dad came back from work. Something told me he'd appreciate it if I cooked lasagna for dinner.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You wish for me to connect with the planet's information grid?" Brainiac asked.

"Just to filter through news feeds," I replied. "Now that things are getting quiet around here, I think it's about time I expand a bit. There are plenty of small towns in the state that have a single villain or so, and it'd be good if I could help the people in those places, too."

"Very well. I shall install a news filter for activities within New England, particularly those pertaining to settlements with populations below fifty-thousand."

I frowned, my brow furrowed. "Wait, how did you know about New England? I never mentioned it to you before."

"I automatically connected to information grid upon my activation," Brainiac replied. "One of the functions my predecessor filled before its death was to learn about other worlds."

"I'll have to get around to asking about those," I said. "Do you think you could print some books about them? I could read them in school and pretend it's just science fiction."

"Of course, Taylor. Do you have any more requests?"

"Actually, yeah. I could use a small nano-fabricator in my utility belt, so I can make more zip-ties when I need them. First aid materials would also be good."

"Very well," Brainiac said. "How many books do you want, and about which worlds?"

"Let's go with five for now," I replied. "And you can choose worlds at random."

"Estimated time of completion is three days; not printing the books would decrease it by one hour," Brainiac replied. "Is this satisfactory? If you wish for a swifter time of completion, then I shall require more material and space to work with; a basement is too restrictive in that regard."

I nodded. "I know, but that's a discussion for a later time. Go ahead with the materials and books."

"Understood; I shall begin work immediately."

The machinery in the rocket immediately went to work, piecing together intricate components for what was likely the fabricator. I watched for a few moments, then went back upstairs. My uniform was up in my room, and the night was still young. Fetching it, I quickly got dressed, then flew out the window. Just because the big gangs were gone didn't mean I could just take a break.

Still, as I soared high over Brockton Bay, I couldn't help but notice how quiet the city had become. In an earlier time, a time before people could fly and shoot fire from their hands, my hometown would've been generously classified as a war zone. Every day, it seemed, you'd read about traffic delays caused by some villain blowing up a building, or watched the news in horror as entire neighborhoods caught fire.

But now?

The city seemed almost _normal_ , like a look into another Earth where parahumans never appeared. There were more people out than usual at such a time of day; the theaters and malls were packed full of families and couples enjoying their weekend, and the downtown area was bustling. It was like Brockton Bay could finally _breathe_ again, after spending so long in terror of what could happen next.

Of course, Brockton Bay was just one city; there were plenty of places worse off. China was a xenophobic oligarchy, and Africa was a complete mess, its old problems magnified a hundredfold by parahuman warlords. Countless cities were shodden and worn-down hellholes thanks to the Endbringers; even places in the US were still messed up.

Yet, at the same time, I gave thought to what Legend said, about people working together. If I could help make Brockton Bay a better place, then maybe others would follow my example and fight to save their own homes. A snowball effect, perhaps, one that would end with things better than before. Many would call it impossible, but history was full of things people at the time called impossible.

I guess I just had hope for a better tomorrow.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **3.06**

Another week passed, and things were looking good. The city remained quiet; there weren't any parahuman-related crimes during that time, and even non-powered criminals seemed to be on the down-low, if only for a while. News channels were buzzing about what had happened over the past month, and apparently it was even being discussed as far away as New York city. The interest only increased when I started helping out in nearby small towns.

Things were shaping up on the homefront, too. Dad got a pay-raise at the Docks once it was clear that Brockton Bay was going to have better business in the future, and there were rumors of a promotion. One night, he excitedly talked to me about how the mayor was considering cleaning up the Boat Graveyard, a project that certainly rake in even more cash for the Docks.

It was strange, hearing him talk about things I helped to make happen. Part of me wondered if he knew the truth, that I was actually Superwoman; my sigil had certainly appeared in the news. I knew I felt pretty bad, about not telling him; every good father would be scared witless about their child's safety, especially at my age.

Nonetheless, I was feeling pretty good about how things were going. The city was finally back to its feet, and my personal life was getting better.

Yet, a part of me wondered how long it'd last.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The bell rang, and students started pouring into their classrooms for first period. I had 'Parahuman Studies' with Weld, and I couldn't help but feel a little excited. Sure, I had already read the materials, but it was always fun to discuss things in class. The teacher, Mr. Beck, seemed pretty knowledgable about the subject as well, which always made class more interesting.

Weld smiled at me as took an adjacent seat. "Morning, Tay."

"Morning," I giggled. "Anything exciting last night?"

"Not really; just a normal patrol around the city. Didn't have to make any arrests, which was nice."

"That quiet, huh?"

Weld shrugged. "I like it; that means there's not much trouble going in the city. It means we're actually doing our job. Of course, there's always at least a little drama going on."

"Really?" I asked. "Like what?"

"Apparently they might actually start transferring some people around, now that things aren't as bad. I don't know who's going where, though."

"I hope you get to stay here," I said.

"Me too," he replied. "The city's growing on me. Besides, that means I'd have to leave you behind."

I blushed at that. Damn, there was something about him that made me feel warm inside.

"Sup!" another voice said.

The warm feeling was replaced with confusion when I saw a red-haired boy come into the classroom. No, not just anybody; it was _Clockblocker_. Of course, he was in his civilian guise, and it made sense that he'd be a student at Arcadia, but it was still a bit shocking to see him there.

What caught my attention the most, however, was the blue t-shirt he had on. More specifically, the red and gold sigil it had on its chest. It was pretty crudely drawn, but I could still recognize it.

"Uh, Dennis, what are you wearing?" Weld asked. "And why are you here?"

"I got transferred in," Dennis replied. "I wonder if the gray hairs I was giving my old teacher had anything to do with it."

"You still didn't answer about the shirt."

"Oh." Dennis glanced down, then grinned. "Some cute girl I met is starting up a fan club for Superwoman, and she asked me to give out these t-shirts."

"Fan club?" I asked. "Schools allow fan clubs?"

Dennis glanced at me. "I feel like I know you. Do I know you?"

"Name's Taylor," I quickly replied. "I'm a, uh, friend of Weld."

"Uh huh," he muttered. "Something tells me you're a bit more than that."

I leaned back in my seat. "What makes you so sure?"

"Oh, few things. Body language, tics, the fact that your face is redder than a tomato..."

"Give it a rest, Dennis," Weld groaned.

"Fair enough." He fished for a shirt from his backpack and offered it to me. "Here, you can have this."

"I'm good," I replied. "Besides, that shirt's too big for me, anyway."

Dennis shrugged, then sat down next to Weld. The teacher came in, and everyone pulled out their notebooks when he started writing on the chalkboard.

"Morning, everyone," Mr. Beck said, turning back to us. "Now, for the past few days, we've been going over the first reported sightings of parahumans in our society. However, I'd like to take step back for a moment, and look at the concept of superheroes as a whole."

There were a few murmurs at that. One of the students raised her hand, and Mr. Beck pointed at her.

"Sir, what do you mean by that?"

"Well, it's a study in how our culture influences how parahumans act," he replied. "Take, for example, the CUI. Its culture is very different from our own, in a number of ways. As such, their parahumans operate differently from ours. Anyone care to give an example?"

I raised my hand. "Do you mean the Yângban, sir?"

"Yes. The CUI, much like the PRC before it, had a mentality of 'group over individual'. You've probably read about the Yângban on the internet, with how they're basically a military unit with a fancy name attached. They act like a whole, with little flair, save for their names. Oftentimes, they take titles from their folklore and mythology, but little else, as their culture is steeped in millennia of tradition."

The students began to jot that down. Mr. Beck waited a few moments, then continued.

"Now, let us look at our own country. Compared to most nations, we're infants. The US has existed for less than three hundred years, while other countries have existed in one form or another for thousands of years. We're also far more individual than a lot of other nations. This has led to the unique archetype that is now a reality, though it was only fiction a few decades back: the superhero. It was a modern take on the heroes of old, with more than a little American flavor added in."

"The good old days," Dennis snickered. "Where women stayed in the kitchen and racist drawings of the Japanese were considered art."

"Mrs. Marston wasn't joking when she called you a clown, Mr. Temps," Mr. Beck muttered. "Please keep the snark to yourself, or you'll find yourself staying here after school."

Dennis grumbled, but otherwise stayed silent. Mr. Beck waited a few moments before continuing again.

"Now, can anyone give me an example of a fictional superhero?"

"Captain Marvel?" a boy offered, raising his hand. "My grandpa used to read his comics."

"Very good, Mr. Freeman. He's often regarded as the very first of the powered heroes, while the Spirit is regarded as the first non-powered hero. In fact, back when parahumans were just starting out, one of the old slang terms for them was 'marvel', though that has gone the way of 'gifted' and 'super'. Captain Marvel set the precedent for how superheroes act and dress, which has influenced the parahumans in reality. Flashy costumes, capes, those sort of things."

Mr. Beck started writing on the chalkboard again. "Now, open your textbooks to page 41,"

I sighed, pulling out my unopened copy. It looked like it was going to be less exciting of a day than I originally thought, if we were just going to be taking notes.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The sky was overcast when school ended. Weld and I walked out together, while Dennis raced ahead on a bicycle. There was something off about the weather; with senses like mine, I could give any meteorologist a run for his money, but I hadn't expected something like _this_.

Weld glanced up and sighed as a few raindrops pattered down. "I hate humidity; it makes me all flaky."

"Well, let's go somewhere dry," I offered. "You could come over to my house for a bit; I think I could use some more studying for the test tomorrow. I mean, not like a d-date or anything, but kinda?"

"About that," he sighed. "Taylor, I think we need to talk."

Uh oh.

"W-what do you mean?" I asked. "About what?"

"Don't get worked up too quick; it's not something terrible," Weld said, putting a firm hand on my shoulder. "It's just... I like you. I really do. And I don't want you to get hurt. If anyone pieced together that you and I are a couple, they might try something."

"You don't need to worry about me," I said, frowning. "Weld, there's nobody left in the city that could do that. Other heroes have good relationships with civilians, right, so why can't we?"

"Yeah, but they have masks they can take off when they want to be with their loved ones." Weld let out a long sigh, raindrops starting to drip down his face. "Me? There's no way I can hide who I am. I'm Weld, and just that."

"I think you're just acting a _little_ bit paranoid," I said. "I appreciate your concern, but I'll be fine. Trust me."

He smiled at me, and I gave him another peck on the cheek, just so I could see his eyes brighten.

"You might want to be careful about that," he chuckled. "It'd be pretty awkward if your braces got stuck to my face."

I giggled at that. "You think? My dad would probably have an aneurysm if he saw that."

"Have you told him yet? About us, I mean."

"He'll be home in a few hours. Maybe we can do it then; it's as good a time as any."

"Hopefully he'll see that I have a heart of gold," Weld said, cracking a grin.

"You better go with those puns," I giggled. "He loves those kinds of jokes."

Weld smiled warmly. "C'mon, let's go to your house. I think I'll get rusted over like the Tin Man if we stay out any longer."

I smiled back. "Sounds like a good idea."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

As it turned out, we didn't have that much studying to do, much to my completely genuine surprise. After a half-hour of just leafing through a book we both read, Weld and I found ourselves on the couch, watching TV. I leaned against him as we flicked through the channels, until we eventually settled on an old classic movie. Thankfully, we had caught it right at the beginning.

"You know, I've never actually seen Seven Samurai before," Weld said. "Director Armstrong suggested it to me, but I never got around to watching it."

"I've seen about half of it," I murmured, settling in a lotus position. "The cinematography is fantastic, but it's _really_ long, and Dad could never get through it."

Weld leaned back into the couch. "I have a shift in four hours. It'll be cutting things close, but I think it's worth it."

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. "Glad you think that; you're in for a treat."

As it turned out, we only had fifteen minutes before Weld's phone rang. He rose from the couch with a muttered apology, and I paused the film as he answered the call. Part of me considered tuning in, but I decided against it.

"Weld here. Yes, alright- no, I'm not declining. I'll be there as soon as possible."

He hung up, then looked at me with an expression I never saw before. There was something... remorseful, in how he looked at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked. "Situation going on?"

"Yeah... in a way." Weld took a deep breath, then exhaled. "It's an Endbringer attack."

My blood turned to ice in my veins. I stood up, looking him in the eye, my jaw agape.

"Where?"

"Providence, Rhode Island. They think it's going to hit in two hours, and they want me down there."

"You're going?" I asked, my voice soft, almost trembling.

"I've done it before, once; that was back in Al-Hofuf. They keep the Wards behind the front lines, but..."

"But that doesn't matter much, does it?"

He shook his head. "I have to do this, Tay; it's my responsibility as a hero. If I don't go, how many people could die? I need to fight, even... even if I don't make it back."

The room fell quiet, save for the pattering of the rain against the windows.

"I'll get going," Weld said. "I can call the PRT to pick me up from here and head to the HQ."

He turned to leave, grabbing his bag as he headed for the door. Time seemed to slow as I watched him go, and I found myself debating what to do. I recalled what Jones told me, only a week ago, and I took a deep breath as a decision was made.

I straightened to my full height, my slouch disappearing. Taking off my glasses, I fidgeted around with them as I found the power to speak.

"Weld," I said, my voice lowering to normal.

As soon as he began to turn, however, my resolve broke. By the time he saw me, I had put the glasses back on and resumed my slouch. Deep inside, I hated myself for doing that.

"Yes?" he asked, something off about his voice.

"B-be careful, will you?" I said.

He smiled. "Sure thing, Tay."

With that, he stepped out the door. I watched through the door as he stepped down from the porch and jogged down the street, his footfalls almost ponderous to my ears. He pulled out his phone and made a call, waiting.

I didn't stand there for long. In the blink of an eye, I was up in my room, pulling my uniform out from under my bed. Pulling it on, I fastened my cape over my shoulders, taking a few moments to do so.

After all, it could be the last time I did it, and I'd want to do it right.

I paused for a few moments, then grabbed my phone and dialed a number.

" _You have reached the voicemail box of John Jones..._ "

I waited until the beep sounded, then spoke.

"John, it's me. Taylor. I'm going down to Providence, and there's a possibility I'm not coming back. That's something I've already thought about, and I'm willing to do it. If-" I took a deep breath before continuing. "If that happens, if I _die_ , I want you to tell my dad the truth about me. Could you please do that for me, John?"

I waited for a few moments, then continued.

"There's something else. In the basement, I have something... valuable. If something happens to me, I want you to find it and give it to the Protectorate. I don't know if they'll be able to make heads or tails of it, but it's worth a shot. Even if... well, I'll still be able to do one last good deed, right?"

I ended the call. Putting the phone back on my bed, I opened the window and floated out, taking care to close it behind me. The rain was coming down heavily, now, to the point that no-one could've seen me.

I soared into the sky, flying above the clouds. There, I spent a few moments, just taking in the cool breeze like it was the last time I ever could. Might as well be, for all I knew.

Then, I rocketed towards Providence. To the Endbringer.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Three, Part II: Speeding Bullets**_


	11. Interlude - H

**Now**

 _I am Providence._

He traced the epitaph on the tombstone, the armored tip of his gloved finger scraping softly over the stone. Though he held no love for the man himself, he couldn't help but admire the stories crafted by him, by this city. When he was a young boy, he used to read the old pulp novels of Bradbury and Burroughs, with more than a liberal sprinkling of Lovecraft.

Fitting, then, that he'd become like something out of their wildest dreams.

He couldn't stay for long; the others needed him at the local HQ, where they were gathering the defenders. Stepping away from the grave, he activated his flight pack and took off, flitting over the lazy Providence river. The city in itself was a lot smaller than New York or Boston, but still sizable. A few skyscrapers dominated the cityscape, most prominently an ochre-colored spire.

It was already starting to rain when he touched down at the state's PRT headquarters. The building was a lot older and more spacious than the other ones he'd been in; apparently, they had repurposed some old power station right by the water. A pair of PRT officers were stationed at the door; they let him pass with only a nod as he entered.

Legend was already there, chatting with a cape garbed in green and brown. If memory served right, then he had to be Duende, leader of the Rhode Island Protectorate. A thinker, who had the ability to put words into people's minds. He wouldn't be able to fight the Endbringer directly, but he'd definitely be a good coordinator.

"Glad to see you've arrived, Hero," Legend said, glancing over. "We've already got more coming in."

"How many? Leviathan's due to attack in two hours."

"Right now, we mainly have the local heroes and villains. Reinforcements are coming in from Boston and Brockton Bay, and we have a teleporter bringing in people from the more distant locales. We actually got a group from Portugal coming in; they call themselves Os Navigators."

" _Os Navegadores,_ " Duende corrected. "And they're from the Azores, actually; the archipelago's sole team. Apparently this state has a large concentration of immigrants from there, and they're willing to fight for them."

"My mistake," Legend said, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Now, I need you with your team down at the meeting hall."

Duende nodded, then walked away. Hero watched him go, then turned back to Legend.

"Where's Eidolon?" he asked.

"Helping with evacuations. The prediction programs and our thinkers said that this city is most likely to be attacked, but we have to assume that the entire state is a target. The Narragansett Bay has three big islands in it; Aquidneck alone has sixty-thousand people. We're bringing them to shelters further up in Bristol, and the people here in the city are being moved to Woonsocket and Pawtucket if the shelters are too full."

 _Who the hell named these places?_ Hero thought to himself.

"Alright, that's workable," he said. "Are we already setting mines and traps?"

"My team's on it," Legend replied. "Now, come on, let's head to the main meeting room."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **December 14th, 1992**

 _I don't remember this room being so quiet_ , he thought to himself.

Eidolon and Legend were there, sitting at either side of him. The Doctor was there as well, reading a report as she waited, while Contessa stood quietly at her shoulder. The only sound, Hero noted, was the clicking of the keyboard as the Number Man worked on something unseen.

Finally, Alexandria strolled in, her costume roughly repaired from yesterday's fight. Despite being completely unmarred by the battle, Hero could see the sag in her shoulders as she sat down by Legend. He couldn't blame her; they were _all_ exhausted.

Exhausted, and terrified.

"This attack was unprecedented," the Doctor said, breaking the long silence. "This..."

"Hadhayosh," Alexandria finished. "That's what they're calling it. It was a primordial ox from ancient mythology."

"A fitting name, then. This Hadhayosh was not expected, to say at the very least. The running theory is that it was a parahuman that had a runaway power, though we've never encountered anything like _this_."

"Tell me about it," Eidolon murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose. "How many did we lose?"

"Twenty-eight," Legend replied, his voice soft. "Some of Iran's best were struck down. And that _thing_ destroyed those oil fields, which ruined the ecology and the economy in one swoop. I have a bad feeling about how that's going to affect things in the region."

"The immediate ramifications will be bad enough, but I fear that the long-term is going to be even worse," the Doctor said. "This creature is a monkey-wrench in our plans to bolster the number of heroes. If it returns, though perhaps 'when' is more appropriate, then it will likely kill more heroes, while the number of villains will be largely unaffected."

"Makes sense," said Alexandria. "They won't go to other countries or cities to fight it. We will."

Eidolon looked down at his hands, slowly flexing them. "I got close, towards the end; I think I was actually hurting the thing. Maybe the next time it rears its ugly head, I might get the right power and take it out before it kills too many."

"I might be able to do something, too," Hero finally said. "If I can figure out just what it was made of, I might find the right frequency to counteract it. It's a longshot, but it's better than nothing."

The Doctor nodded. "Good. If we're able to acquire a sizable sample of tissue next time, we'll allow you to examine it."

 _Next time_ , he thought to himself. _I feel like there's going to be plenty of 'next times'._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Now**

As he and Legend walked into the meeting hall for the local Protectorate, he could see that it was swiftly filling. Eidolon's team was already there, as was Legend's; his own were in one of the corners, talking amongst themselves. They were making jokes and smiling, but Hero could see the fear behind their eyes.

After all, half of them were replacements from the last battle.

There was a faint breeze, accompanied by a loud crack, and another team teleported in, this time from Chicago. Protectorate North-Mid-West, he saw. Myrddin was at the forefront, robes billowing as he strode towards Hero, while his colleagues went over to the New York team.

"I must say, we are swiftly rallying to this small seaside city," the self-proclaimed wizard said. "Shall we expect a record showing for the serpent?"

"Sadly, no," Legend replied, sighing. "Those are usually with the bigger cities. Here, I think we'd be lucky to break a hundred."

"Well, there is always his fearsome twin, that wyrm of Mordiford. I have no doubts that it shall come here to fight."

"Personally, I prefer to work with the _other_ Dragon," Hero said. "Speaking of, do you know where she is? She's never missed a fight yet."

"Her fearsome armor is approaching, according to one of my teammates," Myrddin replied. "I believe she shall be here within ten minutes."

With that, the burlap-garbed cape went to rejoin his team. Hero watched him go, brow furrowed behind his helmet's opaque visor. More heroes were coming in, but he paid them no heed; his mind was focused on another matter.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **April 12th, 1998**

"I'm not sure whether to be relieved or terrified," Eidolon remarked.

Hero couldn't help but share that sentiment. When he received the alert about the incident in Wales, he had flown over as quickly as he could, the others accompanying him. After all, it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that Leviathan was actually targeting London, considering how small distances could be on the British Isle.

Needless to say, he received quite a shock when he arrived, and saw that another monster was fighting the Endbringer. The defending capes had actually stopped in their tracks to watch as the two beasts struggled with each other, little more than a pair of hulking silhouettes through the pouring rain. He could understand why; it wasn't everyday that something could keep Leviathan occupied for so long.

The battle ended swiftly before he could make any major contributions. Leviathan slinked back into a nearby river and swam away, more wounded than he had ever seen it, while the other creature vanished into thin air in the aftermath.

Which was why he was now in the meeting room, along with Eidolon and Alexandria. Legend had important business to attend to, apparently, but the Doctor didn't seem to mind. She leaned forward once Eidolon finished, then spoke.

"This creature you saw... could you describe its abilities?"

"Not much to say; the damn thing was gone before I could get a good look at it," Eidolon replied. "It was definitely tough; I could've sworn I saw bone through Leviathan's wounds."

"It had wings, but I'm not sure if it could fly," Alexandria added. "We didn't see enough of the fight to verify that."

"What are we looking at, here?" Hero inquired. "Is it another Endbringer? Or do you think it might be an escapee?"

Contessa whispered something into the Doctor's ear, too soft for Hero to hear. The Doctor nodded her off, then looked back at the group.

"Since Legend is not here, we shall be more open with what needs to be discussed. I believe there is important information I must tell you, information that likely pertains to this creature you saw in Wales, as well as the sabotage of vial transports..."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Now**

The rain was coming down in buckets, churning the normally blue Narragansett into a grey and white foam. It came down against the windows in a steady roar, almost deafening, obscuring nearly everything from sight. Even without the threat of an imminent attack, the weather would've wreaked considerable havoc in the city.

The meeting room was almost full, now. Teams from all around the country, along with a few foreign ones, had gathered to defend the city. He could recognize the Protectorate capes, as well as the New Wave, but there was a team in red-and-black uniforms sitting nearby that caught his attention. They definitely weren't local; Duende hadn't recognized them, either, but they didn't seem to be heroes.

Why would a villain team come to a city for an Endbringer fight?

He shook his head, as if to dismiss the thought, and continued studying the gathered capes. There were clear divisions among the gathered heroes and villains, especially with the local ones. According to what Duende had told him, the Portuguese villains didn't get along well with the Italians, and neither got along with the Irish. Despite it, though, they were in the same room, willing to fight together against a foe that no-one alone could defeat.

Wryly, he recalled the words of someone whose name he couldn't remember, that the only way to unite humanity was for there to be a common enemy.

Well, they had a common enemy, that was for sure, but there was still a distinct lack of unity.

The heroes from Brockton Bay were finally arriving. Armsmaster strolled in, flanked on each side by Miss Militia and Dauntless. Assault and Battery followed after them, along with a pair of Wards. He couldn't remember the one in the white uniform, but it was hard to forget someone like Weld. The New Wave followed after them, taking a cluster of seats near the front of the room.

For a few moments, there were no more arrivals, then another cape strode in. She was rather tall, especially for her age, and her short black hair was surprisingly dry. Her costume consisted of a blue bodysuit, along with red boots and what appeared to be tights. A red cape was fastened over her shoulders, and there was a large symbol on her chest, which reminded him of an 'S'.

She had to be that Superwoman cape Legend had told him about. For everything that he'd heard about her, he was still surprised that she actually came to the fight.

New arrivals tended to have higher fatality rates.

He watched as she stood by the wall, almost deliberately looking away from the Brockton Bay Wards. Was their bad blood between them, or something else? It had to be the latter; apparently she was quite friendly with the authorities. Perhaps it had to do with the lack of a mask; it was certainly a bold move, but was she beginning to regret it?

His attention was diverted when Legend cleared his throat. Turning, he saw his old friend take the center of the room, while the digital displays behind him flared to life.

"Thank you all for coming here. I know how difficult it can be, how _terrifying_ it can be, to come to a city you don't know, to fight an Endbringer. For that, I applaud you. However, I am not here to give assurances; I am here to prepare you for what's to come. And you should all know that, even on the good days, one in five of you will likely die fighting Leviathan."

There were a few murmurs at that. Legend paused for a few moments, letting that sink in, then continued.

"Despite being regarded as the middle child of the Endbringers, so to speak, Leviathan is not to be underestimated. I have seen many good heroes," he paused before continuing, "and villains die because they did so. He is not the juggernaut that Behemoth is, nor the thinker that the Simurgh is, but that does not make him any less dangerous than them."

The screens behind him showed an image of a flooded city; Seattle, to be exact. Leviathan ran through the streets, water echo trailing behind him as a tsunami began to swamp nearby buildings.

"I cannot stress enough that Leviathan's main power, the one that deals the most damage, is macro-hydrokinesis. That is, he can manipulate water on a scale orders of magnitude higher than any recorded parahuman, though he lacks their finesse. He can, and _will_ , bombard this city with tsunamis of growing strength. The largest recorded tsunami was _eight-hundred_ feet tall."

As if to carry home the message, the rain began to come down even harder, echoing through the chamber of the meeting room. Hero glanced up, frowning; the weather was stronger than usual, even with Leviathan attacking in a few hours.

"Leviathan also has a so-called 'water echo'," Legend continued. "This carries his momentum, and thus greatly increases his combat range. A simple claw swipe, even if it misses, can hit people with a lethal impact of water as far away as a hundred feet. Despite what some of you may think, water can be extremely dangerous; at higher speeds, it is harder than concrete."

He gestured at the screens, which had shifted to show a building being completely pulverized by a wave.

"Now, there is more to Leviathan than that. Despite his size, he is _fast_. He is faster than any known parahuman while swimming, and he can still manage a run at half the speed of sound when on land. He can also display a great deal of cunning; do _not_ think that he is a dumb brute, though a brute he is. Strength-wise, he is capable of overpowering almost any cape that dares to go toe-to-toe with him."

 _Even less, if you count the Green Dragon as a cape,_ Hero thought to himself.

As if they had read his mind, the screen changed to show the creature. Even after twelve years, there was still something about it that gave Hero pause. It was huge, even bigger than Behemoth, with teal-green skin. Fiery-orange eyes, devoid of iris or pupil, seemed to bore holes into his very soul. There were a few murmurs at that, but they died down when Legend cleared his throat.

"Now, most of you have likely heard of him. The Green Dragon, also called the Anti-Endbringer by some. This is one of the few beings on the planet that can give Leviathan a good fight. Despite still-present concerns, he has never shown aggression to us while fighting, though we've never been able to coordinate with him. I am showing this image to give you an idea of what he looks like; far too often has someone attacked him, believing him to be Leviathan."

Miss Milita rubbed the back of her head at that, eyes on the ground.

"He may look fearsome, but he is not your enemy. There are even accounts of him rescuing defenders that would have otherwise died. Nonetheless, we must not rely on him; he can sometimes arrive later than we'd like. The same goes for Scion; he's appeared at less than half of these battles."

Legend scanned the room, face grim. "Despite what I have told you, Leviathan is not invincible. He can be hurt, and he bleeds. If we hit him hard enough, fast enough, then we may be able to defend this city with minimal casualties. We classify cities or regions as _hard_ or _soft_ targets, based on a number of factors. Providence, and perhaps the state as a whole, is a hard target. That means we entrench ourselves, try to hold Leviathan off."

He gestured to the screens, which now showed a map of the state. The bay was highlighted, as was several rivers and reservoirs.

"The main point of defense is the surge wall. After a hurricane in 1938 caused considerable damage, the city installed massive surge walls at the neck of the Providence river. If Leviathan breaches them, then he can easily bring the bay with him into the river and the city as a whole. We believe that he will draw water from the Narragansett's watershed, as well as the bay itself, then use it to wash away the city, and the state as a whole."

"Might improve things in Central Falls," Hero heard a nearby villain snicker.

"Now, you will be given an armband," Legend continued. "This will allow for better coordination amongst us. The armband will give others your location and status, as well as Leviathan's last recorded location in the city. The left button allows for you to send a message to others, though Dragon will filter through them to prevent distractions. If you _must_ get the message across, say 'Hard Override'."

Several heroes began to hand out the armbands as Legend spoke. Hero took one from a Boston Ward, then slipped it over his wrist. He'd worn them before, so there was no need for trial and error.

"The right button is a ping. This is for emergencies, such as being wounded or trapped. Hold both buttons if you have a specific request, such as the need for a teleporter so you can rejoin the fight. Abuse of this privilege _will_ result in the shutdown of your armband."

There was a pause of a few moments as people put on their armbands and activated them. Hero did the same, stating his name. The rain sounded more like a waterfall than anything else, now, and he wondered just how much flooding would've happened without an Endbringer attack.

"Capes!" Legend barked, drawing everyone's attention. "Those who have fought an Endbringer, stand!"

Hero stood, as did the rest of the Protectorate present. Half of _Os Navegadores_ rose from their seats, as did a third of the Wards. The red-and-black villains rose as well, drawing a frown from Armsmaster.

"Follow the Protectorate first! If you are unable to see a member of the Protectorate, then go with those who have fought before! As we are defending a hard target, we are going to keep our focus around the surge wall. If you can create forcefields, or erect barriers of any kind, that is where you'll be. If we do this right, this could be a good day."

Suddenly, a loud _ping_ interrupted Legend. He looked down at his armband, and Hero could see his face pale, ever-so-slightly.

"The Newport Bridge has collapsed; reports are saying that Leviathan's been sighted." He looked up, taking a deep breath. "Strider! Get us to the bridge!"

There was a strange sensation, like all the air was pulled out of the room, and Hero found himself on the green bridge spanning the river. The rain slide over his armor, pattering against his helmet, and he was glad he made it waterproof; he'd be otherwise soaked to the bone in seconds. Others nearby reeled from the sudden change in environment, while the more experienced capes went to work. Already forcefields were flaring to life, layering themselves over the surge wall. Legend and Eidolon took to the skies, and he did so as well, unholstering his ray-gun.

From his vantage point in the sky, he could see a wave approaching, already twenty feet in height. It carried debris with it; cars, bits of brick and concrete, even bodies. A figure stood on top of the crest, its four green eyes shining through the rain and gloom. A whip-like tail swished from side to side, almost impatient, and Hero could see that it was poised to jump.

Leviathan.

"Here he comes!" Legend barked.

Aiming his ray-gun, Hero fired. A golden beam shot out, and he swept across the wave, freezing it. The loss of energy caused by the stilling effect slowed the wall of ice, and it began to crumble as the momentum behind it proved to be too strong.

That was when Leviathan jumped, ice shattering beneath it as it sprung into the air. The Endbringer cleared more than a hundred feet in a single bound, forcing Hero and the others to dodge to the sides. Leviathan's aim was good; it would land right in the middle of the bridge, where many of the defenders were gathered. Already some were moving away from where they thought it would land, but their attempts wouldn't be enough.

Suddenly, a blue and red blur slammed into Leviathan, knocking it off course. The Endbringer hit one of the arches over the bridge, ripping right through it, then fell to the street below. Its water echo came a few seconds later, knocking a few capes off their feet. Leviathan tried to rise to its feet, only for Legend to fire at its ankles, keeping it off balance. Steam rose from where the blasts hit the water echo, and the Endbringer's skin began to glow a dull orange in spots.

Hero landed on the bridge, weapon at the ready. A few capes were firing as well, trying to keep Leviathan on the defensive, while others fell back, trying to take cover behind abandoned cars and blocks of concrete. The ice finally hit the surge wall, popping several forcefields and shaking the foundation of the bridge. There were a few shouts at that, and the forcefield capes went back to work, trying to prepare for the next wave.

Suddenly, another figure emerged, and the defenders fell silent.

It rose from beneath the bridge itself, passing through asphalt and steel like a phantom, until it towered sixty feet above everyone present. Even Leviathan was only half the thing's height. The creature's shape was almost like that of something from Eastern mythology, with a long and sinuous body covered in teal-green scales, but it was very top-heavy. Its broad shoulders sported a quartet of brawn arms, tipped with clawed fingers.

Silently, the Green Dragon put itself between Leviathan and the defenders.

Movement drew Hero's attention away, and he turned to see that Superwoman had landed nearby. The rain seemed to simply slide off her, as though she were a statue. She must've been the streak that knocked Leviathan away, and Hero found himself wondering how much she'd be able to contribute.

"The fuckin' bubbla's getting back up!" a local cape shouted.

Sure enough, Leviathan had already recovered. Wryly, Hero realized that ten seconds might've passed since the Endbringer first landed; it reminded him of just how fast-paced these fights could be.

And how quickly things could go to hell.

Leviathan crouched on all fours, and lunged. He was fast, fast enough that his feet didn't touch the ground after the initial push. He cleared a hundred feet in half a second, claws raised, and Hero prepared to fire, even though he knew he'd probably miss the first shot.

As it turned out, however, Superwoman and the Green Dragon were even faster.


	12. Arc 4

**4.01**

Time slowed, no more than a trickle, as Leviathan charged. The chaos of the battle seemed to almost fall away as everything ground to a halt, and I began to take in what was happening. Around me, capes acted or reacted, moving as though through molasses as they either retreated or prepared to attack. The Green Dragon almost seem to gently float by as it sprung forward like a cobra, teeth bared.

Then, things sped up again, and all hell broke loose.

Leviathan and the Green Dragon collided, a visible shockwave expanding from the point of impact, and rolled across the bridge, grappling with each other. The defenders took advantage of the pause and opened fire, a dozen different projectiles streaking through the air. As if sensing it, the Green Dragon spun around, putting Leviathan in the path of the attacks. Most seemed to practically glance off the Endbringer's hide, but some managed to do some damage.

For a moment, I simply watched the battle unfold, then I sprung into action. Taking off like a bullet, I flew in low, ducking underneath the various attacks being thrown at Leviathan. Energy blasts and other projectiles flew over my head, close enough for me to feel their heat, but I paid them no attention. There was a small gap in the line of fire, and I flew right through it, making a beeline right for the Endbringer.

Leviathan was finally breaking out of the Green Dragon's hold when I caught it in the chin, hitting as hard as I could.

Everything happened in half a second. My fist dove through the Endbringer's skin like it wasn't even there, then began to slow as it went deeper and deeper, stopping only halfway up to my bicep. Leviathan flew back from the hit, and my arm tore free from its face, taking off a humongous scoop of flesh in the process. The Endbringer punched through some of the bridge's support beams, then kept on flying, a sonic boom sounding in its wake.

After a few moments, Leviathan finally hit the water around Aquidneck.

I stared at my arm, eyes wide. Ichor, as black as pitch, slid off the fabric of my uniform as the rain washed it away. Taking a moment to look at it, I saw that there weren't cells of any kind in the stuff; there were only tiny crystalline structures suspended in fluid.

I just punched an Endbringer. I punched an Endbringer halfway across a _state_. Granted, it was the smallest state, but that did little to take away from the magnitude of that feat. Even Alexandria hadn't been able to do something like that, nor any other hero.

"Good shot," a local cape murmured.

"Fuckin' A," another added.

There wasn't much time to celebrate. I could see Leviathan swimming back, moving so fast that there wasn't any time for the defenders to react before it surfaced again. The Endbringer sprung from the foamy waters of the bay, clearing hundreds of feet before anyone could move away. Its face was torn in a rough diagonal cut, with only one green eye left, but it didn't seem to even register the wound.

Before I could dodge, a kick caught me in the gut, sending me flying into the ground. The wind left my lungs, and I rose to my feet gasping. At the same time, however, something felt... _off_ about it, like it wasn't actually important.

Landing back on the bridge, Leviathan _moved_. Lashing out with its tail, it cut a local villain in half, while the water echo pulverized several layers of forcefields. Sprinting forward, it was in the midst of the defenders, tossing and bashing them aside with a flurry of blows.

 _Duende down, PB-2. Henrique down, PB-2. Caveleiro deceased, PB-5._

I shook off the strange feeling and flew back into the fray, but someone else beat me to the punch. Eidolon swooped in and caught Leviathan in the neck with the crook of his arm, forcing it down to the ground. Legend flew above, pelting the Endbringer with his lasers, focusing the blasts in one spot. Steam rose from the point of contact, and I could see molten skin pouring from the wound.

It wasn't enough. Leviathan flung Eidolon off, catching him in the gut with a swipe of water. Rising to its feet again, it shot water at Legend with a flick of its tail, forcing him to dodge. Eidolon was on the ground, scales growing from his skin as he accessed some kind of healing power. A forcefield flickered into life around him, protecting him and several others while he healed.

It didn't stop Leviathan from dashing forward and shattering it, however.

Before the Endbringer could flatten Eidolon, the Green Dragon coiled itself around it, pulling it away from the defenders. Tail straining, it began to constrict Leviathan, holding back its limbs and tearing into its skin. Hissing like a snake, the Green Dragon began to pummel the Endbringer, sonic booms cracking with each blow. Its claws raked deep into Leviathan's flesh, staining the street with ichor.

After a few moments, Leviathan began to struggle free, so I took the opportunity to hit it again, this time aiming for the chest. The Green Dragon seemed to sense what I was doing, and let go just as I hit the Endbringer. I tore deep into Leviathan, but the blow was more shallow in comparison to my earlier attack; the flesh was stronger, more crystalline. Nonetheless, it was enough to send the Endbringer smashing through a barricade and onto a field near the waterline. Leviathan plowed a furrow in the muddy soil, then staggered to its feet.

While it reeled from the hit, I took a moment to study it. Narrowing my eyes, I peered further into its body, looking for any weak spots I could use against it. Everybody had a vulnerability, a weakness; Leviathan couldn't be exempt from that.

What I saw, however, shocked me.

Leviathan didn't have any organs. The blood vessels that held its ichor were circular or sacs, leading to nothing, and I saw that it didn't even have a conventional nervous system. If anything, it was built like a complex piece of crystalline machinery, with circuit-like pathways transmitting information to the base of its tail. There, I saw, was a core the size of a soccer ball. It shone across the entire spectrum in a dazzling array that made my head hurt, but I willed myself to peer deeper, to the atomic level.

With a gasp, I realized that it was made of the same stuff as white dwarf matter, but with the gravitational effects somehow suspended. Perhaps it shunted the energy off into other universes, like how scientists suspected certain powers worked. The mass of an island, a continent even, compressed into such a small space would explain why Leviathan was so tough; even nuclear weaponry wouldn't be able to reach the core, let alone damage it.

It was toying with us. With that kind of durability, there should've been no force on Earth that could threaten it, but it let us think that it could be wounded. Why?

I could ask that question later, when there wasn't an Endbringer trying to sink a state into the ocean.

Leviathan dashed forward, moving so fast that it ran across the surface of the water, then hopped onto the bridge again. The Green Dragon caught it in another tackle, distracting it long enough for Eidolon to pierce its neck with a blade of light. I struck next, catching Leviathan in the leg, throwing it off balance. Its water echo sloshed over me, but I paid no heed to that. I struck between the Endbringer's legs, punching through its steely flesh as I tried to get at the core.

A rumbling in the distance suddenly drew my attention to the bay, and my heart sank into my stomach when I realized there was another wave coming. Nearby, one of the defenders began to shout, calling for people to take cover or produce forcefields. Weld and Clockblocker were working to make cover; the former was flipping cars onto sides while the latter froze them in time. Better than nothing, I supposed.

Thankfully, the Green Dragon seemed to notice. Shoving Leviathan down, it put its weight on the Endbringer to pin it, then stretched a pair of arms to the horizon. I could actually see a distortion of gravity waves emanating from the creature, and the wave suddenly _stopped_ in place. The Green Dragon's arms began to tremble, but still it held.

I didn't know it could do _that_.

Hero flew out to the bay on his jetpack, freezing the wave in place with his ray-gun. It was fortunate, too, because Leviathan took advantage of the distraction to break free. Squirming out from underneath, it split the Green Dragon open with a swipe of its claws. No blood spilled out, strangely enough, but it was enough to break the creature's concentration.

Eidolon stabbed Leviathan again, cutting a large gash across the Endbringer's chest, but it simply shoved him aside as it lunged at me. Its tail caught me in the chest, and I flew back, stopping only when I plowed through an abandoned car. I got to my feet in time for Leviathan's next assault on the defenders. Flying artillery moved away, pelting it with a flurry of lasers and other energy attacks, but it seemed to ignore them as it slammed a foot down on a hapless cape.

Or, at least, tried to. Before Leviathan could stomp the man into paste, a piece of rubble suddenly appeared instead. Turning, I saw that the cape was now close to the gang of villains in red-and-black armor. They had a sort of teleporter, it seemed. Another one of them was forming a miniature sun of sorts, slowly pushing it Leviathan's way. Its light washed over me, but it didn't feel like that of the real sun; it did nothing to rejuvenate me.

Nearby, other capes were trying to hem the Endbringer in, nudging it closer to the sun. Chevalier stepped up, catching Leviathan over the head with his cannoblade. The ceramic edge of the weapon cut deep, drawing ichor, but Leviathan only budged a little. It took Dragon smashing into its back for the Endbringer to finally lose balance and hit the edge of the false sun, where its skin began to glow and melt.

I rejoined the fray, taking off from the ruins of the car. Slamming into its back, I pushed it further into the miniature sun, while Narwhal pinned its feet with her forcefields. Steam rose from Leviathan in billows, and I could see that the sun was melting to the deeper layers of its flesh. Part of me wanted to cheer, that we were getting closer to its core, but I knew things never worked out when an Endbringer was in play.

Sure enough, Leviathan decided to up the ante. It dashed forward, leaving massive hunks of flesh still pinned by Narwhal's forcefields, and caught the sun-making cape in the legs with water. The cape fell to her feet, and the sun dissipated. With that out of the way, Leviathan spun around, knocking Dragon away, then swatted me to the ground with a clawed fist. The blow didn't _hurt_ , but it was still enough to knock me off balance.

The Green Dragon slithered back into the fray, knocking Leviathan away from me. Hissing, the monster bit down on the Endbringer's shoulder, then pulled back, ripping away a hunk of crystalline flesh. It moved furiously, not allowing Leviathan a moment of reprieve as it pummeled into the street. The defending capes joined in, striking at joints to keep the Endbringer off-balance. Legend resumed boring a hole into Leviathan's neck, perhaps in an attempt to decapitate it, while Chevalier chopped away at its wounded shoulder.

It still wasn't enough. Leviathan was toying with them; they might as well be trying to destroy a mountain with chisels. The fights, the slinking back into the sea with grievous wounds; they were all _acts_.

I feared what would happen if it stopped playing.

Leviathan's whiplike tail wrapped around the Green Dragon's torso, and suddenly the monster was flung away. Rising to its feet in an instant, the Endbringer sprung at the defenders, only for me to knock it aside. I struck it across the face, deepening the wound I made, then caught it in a tackle, shoving it away from the other capes. Leviathan fell of the bridge, and I kept on pushing it back, towards the industrial area by the water.

While the Endbringer reeled from a punch to the shoulder, I darted down and took out its leg with a kick. Leviathan fell, but I caught it by the tail before it hit the ground and began to spin it around, building up momentum. Letting go, I let the Endbringer fly into one of the massive oil tanks near the water. There was a shockwave more felt than heard, then a fireball illuminated the gloomy city as it rose into the air.

It still wasn't enough to hurt him.

Leviathan sprinted out of the flames, steam rising from its molten skin, and caught me in a tackle. It began to rapidly pummel me, forcing me into the ground with a flurry of supersonic punches, while water began to flood the crater. It filled my lungs, and I belatedly realized Leviathan was trying to drown me.

What I did next surprised even me.

Leviathan had stopped hitting me, and instead was pressing a hand on my face, trying to smother me. Grabbing it by the fingers, I began to push back, forcing it off me. A sudden _heat_ began to pool behind my eyes, almost painfully warm as it began to build in pressure. Somehow, I knew what to do with it.

Baring my teeth, I let the heat _out._

Twin beams of scarlet light shot out of my eyes and punched clean through Leviathan's hand, blasting away the flesh over its skeletal structure. Finally shoving the Endbringer back, I pressed on, stopping only when the heat faded from my eyes. The beams did their damage in the meantime; one had grazed its size, slagging half its torso, while the other had punched clean through its chest.

Well, that was certainly new.

Greasy black smoke rose from the craters, and Leviathan touched a hand to one of them. Ichor gushed out of the wounds, staining the ground black as the rain came down even fiercer than before. There was a moment's pause, as though the Endbringer was considering its next move.

I didn't let it finish the decision.

Catching Leviathan in the chin with an upper cut, I sent it flying into the sky. Eidolon smashed into it, then slammed it back down near the bridge. Narwhal went to work, trying to keep the Endbringer pinned. Other capes pelted Leviathan, blasting it in an effort to keep it off balance. Armsmaster suddenly raised his halberd, however, and the firing ceased.

Then, Leviathan froze.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **4.02**

Clockblocker stepped away, teeth gritted behind his helmet as he looked at his scalded hand. Eidolon flew down and took hold of it, green light emanating from his eyes. In a matter of seconds, the wound healed. Around them, capes reeled back from Leviathan's frozen form.

I couldn't blame them. Even when frozen, Leviathan made for a terrifying sight. It was in the process of sitting upright, claws outstretched, while its tail was coiled around a nearby car. In a matter of minutes, or only a matter of moments, it'd be moving again, and no-one wanted to be there when that happened. We had a brief respite, and we were going to use it.

The rain began to ease up in its intensity, but it was still a terrible downpour. The street practically had a shallow river flowing over it, washing over my ankles as it trickled down from inclines. If it weren't for my heightened senses, everything would be lost in the gloom and roar of the storm; I wondered how the others were coping with it.

Legend descended from the sky, and the defenders turned as one to watch him as he spoke.

"Listen! Leviathan could get free at any moment! We need to set up a defensive perimeter around it while we still have the time! Those of you who can take a hit from Leviathan will handle the front lines, while those who can't will be support. We _cannot_ lose the surge wall. Leviathan will try to get into the heart of the city, and I fear that won't be difficult, considering the lack of serious obstacles."

A shape moved behind him, and I saw that the Green Dragon was reaching at the wreckage of the industrial area with its telekinesis, pulling it towards us, to Leviathan. Slagged metal sheets embedded themselves into the ground, strengthened by industrial I-beams; the creature was making a cage around the Endbringer. Nearby capes shifted warily, as though they feared what would happen next.

"You sure that thing's on our side?" the sun-making cape asked, voice unsteady.

Legend glanced at the Green Dragon. "It's never acted with hostility towards us. Though, we've never had a pause like this in a fight."

It seemed to have heard him. A long neck twisted as the teal serpent looked the defenders' way, then it resumed making a cage around Leviathan. Already its wounds were healing, the flesh knitting itself back together. Looking deeper, I saw that it had almost no organs to speak of, though the lack of a core ruled out its being an Endbringer.

"If you can produce physical barriers we need you at the surge wall," Legend continued. "Clockblocker, can you freeze the cage?"

"Maybe not the whole thing, but I can try," the Ward replied. "I might only be able to freeze individual parts."

"But they'll hold, right?"

"I'd sooner expect Leviathan to fold the universe in half before he moves something I've touched."

"Let me help," I said, flying to his side. "I can carry him if he needs to freeze the higher sheets."

Legend nodded. "Make it fast."

Grabbing Clockblocker by the shoulder, I flew to the cage the Green Dragon was constructing. Leviathan was still frozen in time, but that could change at any moment. Clockblocker touched a sheet of metal, then I flew him to the next one, until every major piece was frozen. When that was done, I carried him back down to the ground.

"Thanks for the assist," he said.

I managed a weak smile, then I headed over to where Legend was. Despite being in the middle of a discussion with Eidolon, he promptly turned my way when he saw me.

"That was good work you did there, Superwoman."

"Thanks," I said, "but that's not why I'm here. I need to warn you about Leviathan."

Legend frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Its body, the blood, all of it... it's fake. There's a core of some sorts at the base of its tail, and that's the _real_ Leviathan. Its flesh seems to get stronger the closer it is to the core, too. That's why it's still alive, after all the battles it's been through."

"How do you know?" Eidolon asked.

"I saw the core. I'm not sure if Legend mentioned this, but I can see through anything."

"So, if we destroy the core, we destroy Leviathan," Eidolon murmured. "Flechette might be able to hit it, now that we know the truth. She can even cancel out Clockblocker's power with her projectiles."

"Great," I said. "Let's get her lined up for the shot-"

An rumbling behind us interrupted me. Turning around, I saw that Leviathan had unfrozen, and was in the middle of breaking free. One of the frozen sheets had already returned to normal, and the Endbringer was tearing through it, squeezing free of its prison. Chevalier was chopping away away at Leviathan's neck, but the blade could only dig so deep before the flesh got too tough.

The Green Dragon rushed over, tail undulating behind it. Grabbing Leviathan, the serpent then tossed it like a sack of potatoes, sending it smashing into an overpass. The Endbringer fell, only to grab onto the lip of the road with its tail. Scrambling over, it then leapt again, making a beeline for the city behind us. Capes scattered as Leviathan's water echo fell behind it; the impact would be enough to paste anyone without enhanced durability.

If Leviathan got into the city proper, it'd be able to use water from the river and nearby reservoirs to flood the city, even if it couldn't get its waves past the surge wall. I needed to keep it out of Providence, and on the battlefield. If we could hem it in, then maybe Flechette could get the shot at the core. And if that happened, then maybe we'd be rid of the Endbringer, once and for all.

Taking off, I flew at Leviathan, grabbing it by the tail. Spinning around, I tossed it back at the battlefield, making sure that there wasn't anyone nearby. As soon as Leviathan hit the ground, Legend and Eidolon began to pelt it with energy blasts, slagging its skin as they forced it down. Chevalier joined in, firing his cannonblade, and Dragon bombarded the Endbringer with missiles launched from two launchers on her suit's shoulders.

"Hard Override," I heard Legend say. "Flechette, take aim at the base of Leviathan's tail."

A few moments later, I saw a Ward take aim with what appeared to be an arbalest. Leviathan was struggling to rise as the others kept on blasting it, and I realized that the Green Dragon was using his telekinesis to hold the Endbringer down. If they could keep the monster pinned for just a few more moments...

Of course things had to go pear-shaped.

As soon as Flechette fired, Leviathan shifted, twisting its body so the bolt missed its target. It simply grazed the Endbringer's side, then kept on going until it imbedded itself in Dragon's shoulder. Leviathan took advantage of the distraction to knock the tinker's suit aside, then sent a flick of water Flechette's way. The Ward flickered out of place as the teleporter swapped her with a hunk of concrete, but the advantage was already lost.

I flew down, catching Leviathan square between the shoulders with both feet, smashing it into the ground. Taking hold of it before it could recover, I tossed the Endbringer away from the city, aiming for an abandoned salt tank. Leviathan plowed right through, then began to dig itself out. It was more damaged than ever before, but it didn't stop by an iota as it dashed back into the fray.

It seemed that it had stopped playing, if only a little.

Armsmaster spearheaded the next attack. His halberd fired a grappling hook, which suddenly became rigid. Leviathan plowed right through it, the line piercing out of its neck, then stepped back, letting its water-echo rush forward in its stead. The halberd's effect - most likely the same as Clockblocker's - ceased, and Armsmaster retracted the grappling hook just as the water echo rushed forward. A forcefield came into place as Narwhal stepped up, and the water went to the sides instead.

Flechette was taking aim again. Leviathan seemed to notice, however, and tried to move to the side as the Ward prepared to fire. I decided to step in again, wrapping my arms around the Endbringer's neck as I forced the abomination down to a crouch. Leviathan pushed against me, trying to break free, but I wasn't budging. Around me, the defenders were blasting at the Endbringer; some of the attacks hit me by accident, but they simply washed over my skin.

 _Come on, come on..._

When Flechette fired, Leviathan switched tactics. Instead of pushing, it actually _crouched_ , throwing me off balance as I suddenly dropped. Taking advantage of the brief distraction, Leviathan dashed to the side, clear of the line of fire as the arbalest shot went forward, unaffected by any force in the world.

Until it pierced my stomach, that is.

Pain flooded me, brushing everything away as the bolt lodged itself in my torso, poking through my back. It was an alien sensation, a phantom I had almost forgotten about. With a silent scream, I fell to the ground, clutching at the bolt. Every slight movement was agony, and I could feel a warmth spread over my stomach as I bled.

Leviathan dashed at me, claws raised as it prepared to finish our fight. Before it could reach me, however, the Green Dragon tackled in from the side, knocking it away from me. A pair of wings had protruded from the serpent's back, green flesh stretching between spindly limbs as they formed; apparently, the creature was also a shapeshifter. With a great flap, the Green Dragon and Leviathan took off, struggling all the way.

It didn't last long. Leviathan broke free, falling to the river below. As soon as it fell, it ran along the surface of the water, smashing through forcefields as it rammed into the surge wall. I heard Eidolon and Legend shouting for reinforcements, for someone to try and strengthen their last strongpoint, but it was too late.

With one last blow, the surge wall was down, and the bridge with it.

The Endbringer paused, as if it was planning its next step, then dashed along the river and into the city. Hero was still out there, freezing waves as they came, but there was only so much he could do. Whether it took half an hour, or half a day, Leviathan could now bring water into the city and build it up, until the entire state was washed away.

With the chaos, I was forgotten as everyone rushed to try and defend the vulnerable city. Lights flared as teleports moved defenders en masse into the streets, where they could try and hem Leviathan in, while Legend and Eidolon flew over to where the fight was. I couldn't blame them; what was my life, when put up against a hundred and fifty thousand?

For a few moments, I simply kneeled, bleeding. Time slowed down for me again, dampening the roar of the rain to a mere trickle, and I took in a shuddering breath as I grabbed the bolt. A jolt of pain raced up my spine, but I ignored it.

Most people, with such an injury, would call it a day. They couldn't contribute any more to the fight; doing so would simply end in their deaths. It wasn't their city, and no-one frowned down on them for at least taking a short breather to try and find a healer.

Not me. I could still fight; the bolt hadn't pierced anything vital. I _had_ to fight; I couldn't fail all those thousands of people in the city, nor the brave heroes - and villains - dying to protect it. Running away to heal wasn't an option when even a moment's delay could result in preventable deaths.

I couldn't let them down.

I _wouldn't_.

With a single tug, I pulled the bolt out of stomach, letting out a sharp cry as it slide free. There was one last jolt of pain, then a steady throb of soreness. Bright pink blood coated the arrowhead, the rains washing it away, and I tossed it aside. Rising to my feet, I saw that the wound was already healing, the flesh knitting itself back together. The pain began to fade, though I still felt more tired and sore than in my entire life.

I ignored it, however, as I took off, heading to rejoin the fight. I also had to ignore the mounting casualties reaching my ears as Leviathan advanced.

 _Townie Pride deceased, KP-3. Woebegone deceased, KP-3. Orgulho da Terceira down, KP-3..._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **4.03**

The scene I came to seemed almost like a portrayal of our world in a nutshell.

Leviathan was advancing into the city, drawing water from the river to use as small waves. The defenders' ranks were broken; they were routed, retreating to any vantage points left. Many were on the upper floors of nearby buildings, taking potshots, while PRT officers on the rooftops tried to distract the Endbringer with grenade launchers. Only a handful of those brave or powerful enough to fight Leviathan were still in the streets, even as debris-choked waters threatened to swallow them up.

What was supposed to be a 'good day', was now swiftly turning into a bad one.

It didn't just apply to this one fight. Thirty years ago, humanity's prospects were looking bright, though it still had a long way to go. Then parahumans appeared, and with them came superpowered mass-murderers, warlords, and vast criminal empires that no unpowered law-enforcement could ever hope to take down. The Endbringers ravished entire city and nations, systematically bringing the world to its knees, and something told me there would be worse to come.

That didn't meant I was going to stop fighting. And something told me the same went for everybody else.

Leviathan didn't have time to react before I slammed between its shoulder blades, knocking it off its feet. Before it could get back up, I hit it again, aiming for between its legs. The flesh protecting the core was slowly giving way, though it got harder as I pressed on. Leviathan swiped at me, trying to force me off, but I weaved in and out of its blows as I continued to pound away at the monster.

"Clear!" I heard Dragon bark.

I dodged out of the way, just in time for a violet beam to strike Leviathan in the gut. The Endbringer went flying back from the blast, stopping only when it hit the side of a building. Tons of rubble collapsed on Leviathan, temporarily pinning it. Already it began to shake itself free, but it bought ourselves a moment's reprieve. The Green Dragon slithered out of sight, most likely gathering something to use as a weapon.

"My energy reserves are almost shot at this point," Dragon said, her voice coming from a small speaker under her suit's 'chin'. "This is getting bad."

Glancing her way, I reflexively peered inside, and had to stifle a gasp. There was no pilot inside, only some _thing_ resting in the center of her suit, almost fetus-like in appearance. Dozens of wires and electrodes were attached to its body, and I had to repress the urge to vomit when it _twitched_.

"Why isn't it retreating?" Legend asked, pulling my attention away from Dragon. "I've never seen it so wounded before. Why is it still attacking?"

"Maybe it knows that we figured out the truth," I offered. "You said that they're smart, right?"

"If that's the case, then we need to end this before it gets worse." Legend pressed a button on his armband. "Where's Flechette?"

" _Flechette down five minutes ago, KP-2,_ " his armband replied. " _Currently off battlefield._ "

"Damn," Legend muttered.

"It's getting back up," I warned.

Sure enough, Leviathan broke free of the rubble, water sloshing about its form as it turned to look at me. Peering closer, I saw that the beam Dragon fired had bored a hole nearly half a foot deep into the Endbringer's flesh. Ichor gushed from the wound in impossible volumes, more than any natural creature could contain. It wasn't enough, not nearly enough, but it was better than nothing.

Flying forward, I caught Leviathan in an uppercut, a shockwave expanding from the point of contact. The Endbringer flew upward, then fell back down with enough force to imbed itself into the street. As it struggled to get free, the Green Dragon reappeared, carrying something _huge_ overhead. Looking closer, I realized it was an old Russian submarine, dredged up from under the bay. Considering that it wasn't collapsing under its own weight, I surmised the Green Dragon was applying telekinesis to it.

Hissing, the Green Dragon swung down, catching Leviathan directly over the head with the submarine. The metal crumbled around the Endbringer's form, but it did its damage; several large gashes were torn into the monster's outer layers. Again and again the Green Dragon swung down, practically hammering Leviathan into the ground like a pike. When the submarine was too damaged for further use, I pulled Leviathan out of the ground and tossed it the Green Dragon's way.

The serpent swatted down with all four arms, knocking the Endbringer back into the ground. Its tail coiled itself around Leviathan like a boa constrictor, restraining the abomination, and I could see small claws forming in the Green Dragon's skin as it maximized the damage. Spinning about, the serpent began to cut into Leviathan like a chainsaw, ripping away huge chunks of skin.

Of course, that was when things went from bad, to worse.

Leviathan hopped upwards, sacrificing most of it skin, and caught the Green Dragon in a tackle. The Endbringer began to pummel away, fists moving in a blur, though its foe returned the favor with as much ferocity. Nonetheless, I could see flesh tear from the Green Dragon's form, quickly fading into teal smoke. It reached a hand at Leviathan's face, peeling away a layer with its telekinesis, but that didn't seem to slow the Endbringer down a bit.

I needed to level the playing field. Dashing forward, I caught Leviathan in the back of the head, throwing it off balance. The Green Dragon slithered out from underneath, arms lengthening into what appeared to be toothed whips. Lashing out at supersonic speeds, it sliced away at the Endbringer, cutting deep into its flesh. Leviathan stumbled, if only for a moment, then tackled the Green Dragon again. Heaving, it tossed the serpent at an nearby oil truck.

What happened next sent a chill down my spine.

The tanker exploded, and the Green Dragon _shrieked_. It began to writhe about, skin flaring like burning thermite as the flames rapidly lapped away at its body. Even the rains couldn't stop the burning, and I realized that the serpent was dying. After surviving so many Endbringer fights, only to be brought down by something as simple as flame.

No. Taking a deep breath, I flew forward, then exhaled. A cone of cloud hit the Green Dragon, snuffing out the flames and freezing the water in the air. After a few moments, I could see the creature relax, even as chunks of its flesh fell off, blackened into ash.

Behind me, Leviathan charged back at the defenders, a wave trailing behind it. One of the weaker buildings collapsed into rubble as the waters rushed over, and I turned to see that everyone was falling back to the tallest building in the city; an ochre spire. Capes scrambled over the walls, or simply flew up to the upper floors in order to escape the water. Clockblocker was among them, nursing a broken arm, but Weld was still on the ground, still fighting.

I could sense everything slowing around me as I thought faster, trying to think of a battle stratagem. The streets were flooded up to my waist in water, now, and I could see Leviathan was using that to its advantage; it had more to hit the defenders with. Legend and Eidolon were overhead, their movements sluggish to my eyes as they blasted away at the Endbringer, even as the attacks did little.

 _You can end this._

I blinked in surprise. That thought wasn't mine; there was something too artificial about it, like someone else was speaking directly into my head.

 _Behind you._

Turning, I saw that the Green Dragon was staring right at me, as though it could look right into my soul. Despite its horrific wounds, it was oddly tranquil as it studied me, moving with an air of intelligence behind it.

It was _communicating_ with me? No-one had ever spoken about something like this. Why now, and why me?

 _Because you are different. Strong. Stronger than them, and stronger than me. They have limits to their power._ You _don't. You can do anything; embrace that, and you can save them. You can save them all._

 _How do you know this?_ I found myself thinking.

To my surprise, a chuckle filled my mind.

 _We all have our secrets, daughter of El._

My eyes widened. Before I could say something, however, the fighting drew my attention away. Turning, I saw that Leviathan was pooling water at the base of the tower, no doubt in an attempt to collapse the whole thing and kill the defenders in one swoop. I needed to stop that, before it was too late.

 _GO!_

I flew right at Leviathan, taking out its legs. The Endbringer fell, only for me to catch it and hurl it back. Leviathan actually skipped across the surface of the flooded street, then regained its footing. There were only five defenders on the ground, now: Armsmaster, Dragon, Weld, Chevalier, and someone I didn't recognize. Eidolon and Legend still flew overhead, firing at Leviathan.

Not that it did much. Crouching on all fours, Leviathan pounced, clearing the space between us before most could react. One of Chevalier's cannon shots caught it in the shoulder, but the Endbringer didn't seem to register the blow at all. Sweeping in low, it swatted me in the gut with its tail, knocking me into a car, then lashed out with a kick beyond my peripheral vision. There was a sound of bones breaking and flesh tearing, then a yell of pain reached my ears.

 _Armsmaster down, BA-1._

"No!" Dragon cried.

I knocked Leviathan away, and Eidolon managed to capture it in a forcefield. The Endbringer pounded away at the dome, then began to move about, filling the space with water made from its echo. It'd only hold for a few moments, if the cracks forming were any indication, but that'd be enough.

Turning, I saw where Armsmaster had fallen. One of his legs was gone below the knee, and I saw that several of his ribs had splintered like toothpicks. Dragon was rushing to his side, spraying foam over the stump. Despite it, I could see that he'd lost a great deal of blood, which was staining the water red.

"Dammit, don't die on me!" Dragon shouted.

I flew over, gently taking hold of him. "I can get him to Clockblocker."

Dragon glanced at me, pausing for a moment. "Hurry, before it's too late!"

Nodding, I flew up to where Clockblocker was. He understood as soon as he saw what was going on, and immediately put his good hand on Armsmaster's unconscious form. As long as he kept it up, he'd delay any further blood loss until help could arrive.

A sound of tearing metal drew my attention back to the fight below, and my heart caught in my throat. Leviathan had taken hold of Weld, and was beginning to _pull_. He fought back, stabbing at its face with a bladed arm, but I could see it was getting nowhere. Already his torso was stretching, growing thin as the metal was warped by the sheer strength the Endbringer could wield.

Just as I flew down, Leviathan pulled him in half, letting go of both parts as it dropped him to the street below.

 _No._

Time didn't slow in that moment. It _stopped_. Raindrops hung in the air, completely motionless, and even Legend's energy blasts could only painfully inch forward, creeping into my line of sight. I stared down at Leviathan, rage boiling in my chest. The pain of my stomach wound was forgotten, and everything else fell away, leaving only Weld and the Endbringer.

Then, I screamed.

I caught Leviathan in the chest with both fists, hitting harder than I ever had before. The Endbringer flew at an angle, swiftly leaving the city behind him as he went higher yet, yet the shockwave was oddly diminished. Everything was still frozen in the moment, to the point where I could see raindrops parting in Leviathan's wake, yet there was no sign of the sheer speed behind the blow.

I didn't bother to think of why; my focus shifted on grabbing Weld. Catching his torso first, I then flew over to take hold of his legs. I went up to the building where the others were, and it was only then that time seemed to resume. The rain fell at once, roaring like the fury of some sea god, but it could not intimidate me. Gently putting Weld down, I examined the damage. Silver bones and copper organs were exposed; a great deal of mass was still missing.

"No," I whispered, pulling Weld's halves back together. "Nonononono. Please, _please_. I got you. Come on, come on."

Slowly, he began to shift back together, the wound sealing itself crudely. I breathed a sigh of relief; he was resilient, far more than most. He blinked a few times, then looked at me, eyes wide.

"How?" he began, his voice more of a rasp than anything else.

"It ripped you in half, but I got you," I replied, as tears ran down my face, hidden in the rain. "Thank god you're okay."

"Leviathan?" Weld asked.

"It's still in the air after I hit it, but it'll be down again soon." I took a deep breath, then continued. "I'm not letting it get away, not this time. It's killed too many people for it to keep on doing so. This whole thing ends, _now_."

Before Weld could say anything, I did something I shouldn't have. Leaning forward, I kissed him on the lips, then pulled back. He looked at me, eyes wide, and I stood up.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

Then, I was gone.

After a few minutes in the air, Leviathan finally hit the water off the coast of Bristol, and immediately began to swim away. I dove in after it, plowing through the water like a torpedo. Leviathan was fast in the water, with its hydrokinesis in full force; no parahuman on Earth could beat it in a straight race. It should've been impossible for me to catch it.

But I did it anyway.

I pulled Leviathan out of the water, then tossed it in the direction of a small island off the coast of Prudence. The Endbringer only had a moment to get to its feet before I dove into the ground, digging into the surrounding crust. Before Leviathan could move away, I hoisted the entire island from the ocean floor, lifting it a hundred feet in the air. The waters rushed in to fill the crater I made, and I dropped the island face-first onto an empty field in Prudence.

The shockwave flattened houses across the larger island's community; thankfully, it had been evacuated hours beforehand. Leviathan was sandwiched between a good million tons of rock, the outer layers of its flesh sloughed off by the impact. Yet, it seemed to pay no heed to the damage as it went into overdrive, tapping into whatever kind of energy reserves it had. Its water echo essentially became a high-power pressure saw as it pushed two halves of the rock away, arms straining.

It seemed that Leviathan was finally going all-out; never before had it demonstrated such a high level of strength. Before, even Behemoth would've put up a show if it tried a stunt like that, but Leviathan was no longer playing an act; it just wanted to survive. It jumped away from me, easily breaking the sound barrier as it crossed miles in a single bound, trying to dive back into the waves.

Catching it, I soared upwards, moving faster and faster. Leviathan struggled against me, but my grip held firm as I carried the Endbringer above the dense troposphere. We punched through the rain clouds, and the sun shone brilliantly as it reached high-noon. The warmth sent a trill of pleasure up my spine, and I could feel the light rejuvenating me, making me stronger.

I went higher still, my speed increasing, until the air began to grow thin. The sky went from deep blue, to dark, then to black as I darted through the stratosphere. The Endbringer fought to get free, even tearing away at its arm, but I simply tightened my grip in response. The last vestiges of the atmosphere peeled away from me, and then...

Silence.

Now free from the friction of the atmosphere, I could move even faster than before. The unadulterated sunlight washing over my skin helped as well. I soared higher and higher above the Earth, heading deeper into the void between the stars, then finally stopped. Letting go of Leviathan, I watched as it drifted away from me, water echo steaming and freezing at the same time.

I was in space.

I could _breathe_ in space.

Looking down, I could see the entire Earth beneath my feet; I had to be in high-earth orbit, beyond the range of almost any satellite, but not yet beyond the Moon. A good hundred thousand miles separated me and Leviathan from the planet; it was safe from anything that came next.

I simply paused for a few moments, soaking in the sunlight. I thought back to what the Green Dragon had told me, about my having no limits; it seemed to be true, if I could unlock abilities I never knew I had. Despite everything I had done on the ground, there was something at the back of my head that felt I could do _more_ , so much more.

And now, for the first time, there was absolutely nothing to hold me back.

Leviathan was trying to propel itself away from me, using its water echo as a kind of jet. I looked at it, then narrowed my eyes, letting that _heat_ build up behind my eyes again. Twin beams of scarlet light blasted Leviathan, and I broadened their scope to the point where the Endbringer was entirely engulfed. In a matter of seconds, it was stripped to the bone, with only the innermost layers remaining.

Switching tactics, I slammed into Leviathan, catching it in the chest. Its torso was so small that I could wrap my arms around it, and I began to hammer away with my fists, hitting harder and harder. I could sense that I was approaching relativistic velocities; light flashed from each point of impact, shining across the x-ray and gamma spectrum. I was glad I wasn't doing this on Earth; the consequences would've been horrific.

I had to constantly shift about as I struck, keeping Leviathan hemmed in Earth orbit. It'd do me no good if it went off at escape velocity, too fast for me to easily catch up with. Besides, something told me it'd find a way to return, to wreak havoc on the world again. I needed to end it here, and now.

After a few seconds of relativistic punching, Leviathan's torso was as thin as a pencil. The crystalline material composing its body was _glowing_ from the sheer amount of energy contained within its structure, but it failed to scald my hands as I took hold of it. Flexing, I put as much muscle as I could into twisting the structure, to the point where my hands began to bleed.

Then, with a flash of light, Leviathan was snapped in two. I tossed the superfluous upper body away, then focused on the real target: the core. It wouldn't give as easily as the torso did; the layers surrounding it would be even tougher, to the point where its sheer density warped space around it.

I needed a different tactic.

I went the long way around the world, building up momentum as I went. The sun continued to rejuvenate me; I could feel myself growing even stronger in its presence, the cuts on my hands fading away. I used that extra energy to fly faster, to the point where I was sure I was straddling the line between the relativistic and the impossible. The universe seemed to shift before my very eyes as I flew, but I had to ignore it; Leviathan was the chief priority.

My fist collided with the core, and the outer layers were immediately obliterated with the impact. Leviathan, the _real_ Endbringer, hurtled away at relativistic velocities; I caught up to it, and struck again. A crack formed in the core, while a jolt of pain ran up my hand. My knuckles were bleeding, and I was sure I broke a few fingers.

I ignored the pain, and continued on.

The pain was becoming too much, even as I rained relativistic blow upon blow on the core, widening the cracks with each hit. For a brief moment, I wondered _why_ I was doing this, why I was risking my life to kill Leviathan. It wasn't a conscious thought; it was more of the animal part of my brain trying to stop me from committing suicide. A moment of doubt, that everyone experiences in a risky situation.

The answer was immediate.

Earth. Dad was down on that blue globe I called home, as was Emma and Weld. Everything I knew, everyone I loved or cared about, was on that world. Mom was buried there, on a hill overlooking the city. Without Earth, without humanity, I was nothing.

So I pushed myself for one last hit, ignoring the blinding pain as each impact scalded my face and bruised my body. Leviathan's core was almost completely fractured; cracks and fissures covered the entirety of its surface. All it'd take was one good hit.

Opening my mouth in a silent scream, I brought both fists down, hitting with all of my strength. The core shattered, and there was a light too brilliant to look at, followed immediately by the most intense heat I'd ever experienced.

After that, came blackness.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Four: Fighting for a Tomorrow**_


	13. Interlude - Aftermath

The rain had stopped ten minutes ago.

Colin glanced up at the sky, wiping away the last droplets of water from his visor. The overcast was peeling away, now, revealing patches of blue sky, and sunlight began to stream in through the cracks, bathing the bay in a warm glow. It painted an almost tranquil picture; it was a stark contrast to the horrors that began just under an hour ago.

Something moved in the corner of his eye, and he looked back down to see Panacea rising to her feet. She had stayed home for the fight, waiting until it was over before coming to handle the aftermath. It made sense; there was nothing she could've offered to the fight directly, and she was too valuable to lose.

The healer washed her hands of blood, then turned back to him. "I've staunched the blood loss, and I managed to grow some skin over your stump. No bone fragments, either, so there's no risk of a nasty surprise in the future."

"Thank you," he said, glancing down at his leg.

Panacea sighed. "Sorry I can't do any more, but I don't have biomass to work with, and there are others who need my attention."

"That's alright," Colin replied, almost absentmindedly.

Panacea left after a moment's pause, heading over to where Miss Militia was nursing a broken leg. There were other wounded nearby, propped up by friends and enemies alike. It was a common enough sight, after an Endbringer battle; oftentimes the medical care had to be done right in the field, and here was no different.

Well, there was _one_ major difference.

There still had been no sight of either Leviathan or Superwoman since she took the fight out to the bay, nearly fifteen minutes ago. It was quite likely that she had died fighting the beast off, or that the Endbringer simply decided to retreat. Still, many had begun to wonder if someone like her could be taken out so easily; after all, Leviathan had never been dealt so much damage by only one cape.

His musings were interrupted when Dragon came over. Her suit was damaged, with many armor panels missing, but it was still functional. It had shed a great deal of mass after the fight was over, and was now only the size of a small car.

She sat down beside him, leaning back on some rubble. They had a good look of the bay, now; the waters were returning to a placid blue, and already the PRT was at work, looking for survivors and minimizing damage.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better than before," he replied, sighing. "Still trying to get used to the idea of missing a leg."

"I might be able to help with that," Dragon said. "I've been researching advanced prosthesis for some time; you could get a new leg that'd be better than the old one."

He glanced her way. "I believe you mentioned that before, when you were discussing cybernetics with me. Could I see your notes, after this is over?"

"I'd be happy to." She paused for a few moments, then continued. "I don't think she's out of it, just yet."

"Oh?"

"Do you recall what I showed you, about Richter's notes?"

"It was at the back of my mind, but I do remember," Colin replied. "I was interrupted by the crisis at the Docks."

"Well, I wanted to tell you something, and I think now is a good time." Dragon took a deep breath, then sighed. "I believe that she's extraterrestrial in nature."

He sat straight up. "You're joking."

"Would I joke about this? That object Richter examined contained technology that puts tinkers to shame. Trust me; I know how tinkertech works, and that wasn't it. It was so..."

"Alien?" Colin finished.

"Precisely. It had to be from another world."

"But does that automatically mean that Superwoman's an alien?"

"There's more information, but I don't think I should discuss it around here." She gestured at the nearby capes and PRT officers. "It's... sensitive."

Colin nodded slowly. "I see."

Before he could ask anything else, there was a bright flash in the sky, and he reflexively put a hand over his eyes. The sun must be finally showing, now that the overcast was going away. Glancing down at the watch built into his armor, he saw that it was just past noon.

As more of the clouds drifted away, however, he realized that it wasn't sunlight.

A glowing cloud was spreading across the sky, expanding rapidly. After only a few moments, it took up almost a quarter of the sky, obscuring the Moon from sight. Colin had to avert his eyes from the epicenter; it outshone even the sun, if only briefly. Around him, hero and villain alike gasped as they looked upward at the spectacle.

For a brief moment, he recalled an old documentary he watched years back, which discussed the detonation of nuclear weaponry in space. Apparently, the US once fired an atomic weapon into the upper reaches of the atmosphere, where it promptly fried half of the satellites in orbit. The cloud he saw now reminded him of that grainy footage, and a cold feeling formed in his gut.

Finally, the light faded, and he lowered his hand. The cloud now took up half of the sky, but it had dimmed considerably, to the point where it was almost invisible. There were a few flickers of green light, and he realized that the first particles were hitting the ionosphere. He felt exposed, now; there was no telling how much radiation was now saturating the area.

"Look!" someone called, pointing upward. "Look, up in the sky!"

Others joined in, a wave of gasps rolling across the crowd. Some pulled out cellphones to take pictures, while a PRT officer produced a video camera. Looking up again, Colin realized that a figure was coming down from the sky, carrying two large objects with it. He couldn't tell who it was; the noon sun silhouetted its form, obscuring it in shadow.

Finally, the figure lowered, and Colin gasped. It was _her_. Bloodied, battered, with several tears in her uniform, but it was her. His jaw hung open at the sight, especially when he realized just _what_ she was carrying.

Superwoman descended to the ground, cape fluttering behind her, and dropped Leviathan's head on the ground.

There was no mistaking it, despite the massive burns and gashes covering its crocodilian skin. Leviathan stared lifelessly at him, the light faded from its burnt eyes. Steam rose from where it fell onto the flooded street, and parts of it still glowed a dull orange. It had been roughly torn off at the neck, with jagged pieces of crystalline flesh protruding from the stump. No ichor poured forth from the wound; it had already been bled out.

"Is... everyone... safe?" Superwoman said, her voice hoarse.

There was no response; the defenders stared at her with wide eyes, mouths agape. She looked at them all, then managed a weak smile.

"All that really matters."

Then, she collapsed.

For a moment, everyone just watched, as if their awe had paralyzed them. There may have been a twinge of fear behind it as well; there was no telling how well she'd be able to handler her strength.

"Somebody get a stretcher!" a PRT officer finally bellowed. "She needs medical attention!"

Colin sat up, eyes wide as he watched Superwoman struggle to a kneeling position, a hand clamped over her stomach. Bright pink blood trickled from cuts on her face and hands, staining the water, and her face was covered in bruises. A nearby defender knelt at her side, helping her up, and Legend flew over to get the other. Together, they hoisted her to her feet, while a stretcher was wheeled over.

"Easy, easy," Legend said, as they set her down on the stretcher. "It's going to be fine."

"No... doctors..." Superwoman hissed, getting to a sitting position. "I'll be fine."

"Miss, you're injured," a PRT EMT said, producing a needle. "Sit back so we can get an IV in."

"Do you... really think... that you'd be able to prick me... with that?"

The EMT paused, giving Superwoman enough time to suddenly jump off the stretcher. Before anyone could say something, or make a token attempt to stop her, she was gone. A sonic boom rolled across the street, strangely subdued.

Silence reigned. People turned their attention once more to the head of Leviathan, which had finally cooled. A nearby cape tentatively moved forward and knocked a fist against Endbringer's remains, as if to confirm that it was indeed dead.

Another moment passed, then the cheering began.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

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 **Topic: LEVIATHAN KILLED**  
 **In: Boards ► World News ► Endbringers ► Main**

 **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted On Oct 1st 2010:

WTF. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK. LINK IS **HERE**.

Ahem.

Here's the news for those who didn't catch what happened, or if the site crashed.

• Providence is alerted of an Endbringer attack, most likely Leviathan. Fairly standard, as attacks by giant unstoppable monsters go.

• Defenders gather. Protectorate is there as usual, and local capes make a showing. Os Navegadores, the premiere team in the Azores, also come along for the ride. Recent upstart in Brockton Bay, called Superwoman, also appears.

• Leviathan attacks early. Green Dragon appears, and shit hits the fan. Big time. Several defenders are killed, which is pretty standard. The hard target is broken, and the Endbringer gets in.

• This is where shit gets real. Superwoman suddenly knocks Leviathan into the bay, and reports confirm that she dropped a fucking _island_ on the thing. Oh, but it doesn't stop there. No, she drags it out into outer space, and fucking _obliterates_ the thing, which was the lightshow everyone on the entire freaking hemisphere saw.

• Not more than 20 minutes passes before Superwoman comes back down from space, carrying _Leviathan's fucking head_ in one hand, and some chunk of crystal in the other.

That's all I'm saying for now; there might be more I don't know at the moment.

 **(Showing page 345 of 347)**

► **StarSpawn** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
No fucking way.

► **TimeDiver** (Wiki Warrior)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
troll

► **mistakenot**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
This can't be real. Is it?

► **JLF65**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Seriously? How the fuck did this happen?

► **ShadowCub** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
FUCK YEA! EAT IT LEVIATHAN!

► **Bailey Matutine**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Fucking A. Scion didn't do this?

► **Terrace**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Nope. Everything confirms it was Superwoman.

► **Ramenth**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Did anyone see the pictures. Holy shit that's badass.

► **Meikyuu** (Kyushu Survivor)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Japan has been avenged.

► **TheLastOne** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Un-fucking believable. I just saw a video of that Superwoman coming down with the head.

► **Grognan**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Did anyone see the flashes in the sky?

► **caezlinnorm**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I'm pretty sure half the fucking planet saw that, dude.

► **MS-21H 'Hawke'**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I can't believe this actually happened. How did it happen?

► **Selias**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Does it really matter?

► **GBscientist** (Veteran Member) (Wiki Warrior)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Holy shit. I'm pretty sure those flashes were gigaton or more, if they could be seen as far away as HEO.

► **grey**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
holy fuk r u kidding me

► **sparhawk**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
wow

► **crystalwatcher**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Did anyone see how young that girl looked?

► **Nemonowan**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Cripes, she looks younger than my kid.

► **MasterXellos**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
This message has been deleted due to inflammatory statements. Enjoy your one-month ban. -Tin Mother

► **Jake Snake**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Any news on the Green Dragon?

► **andy_710**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Apparently it slinked away after Leviathan got hit into orbit.

► **XanatosGambit86**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I can't believe I'm actually alive in a time where an Endbringer gets destroyed. Especially by someone who isn't Scion, no less.

► **kojiro kokita** (Kyushu Survivor)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
May the Leviathan rot in hell.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3**

 **(Showing page 346 of 347)**

► **MrGazzer**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Shit, the video's already at fifty million views.

► **esseresse**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I tried to watch, but Youtube crashed. :(

► **Omega Cloud**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
There's probably a hundred different websites with the video.

► **General TheDyingTitan**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I wouldn't be surprised if they crashed, too.

► **Kailenn**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
One down, two more to go.

► **DesertChocolate**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Hell yes! Go Superwoman!

► **Leteatbee**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Video's already up at 100 million. Holy fuck.

► **Harry Kiri**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Well, I'm pretty sure Providence is going to be real famous soon.

► **Amberion**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
What's the casualty list?

► **Gorgoneion**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Capes: 6

Civvies: ~200

► **SpiralAK** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Most of those were probably when the Newport Bridge fell, too.

► **Arafell**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
That's gotta be the lowest ever, right?

► **Essus**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Amberion: Man, there's a lot in that little state. Littlest state, biggest shit happening right now.

► **Cheezuz_TheGodOfCheese**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Any status on Superwoman? I'm pretty sure I saw her collapse before the video ended.

► **kurohyokitsune**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Dunno. Report says she flew off. Hope she's ok.

► **Nidhoeggr**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Crazy shit happening right now. I wonder what they're going to do with Leviathan's head.

► **HotaruSama**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Destroy it. I don't want there to be a massive exhibit for that thing when my uncle didn't even have a headstone.

► **Tammin**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Maybe we should study it first. It had to have a weakness, right?

► **Alayn**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Based on those bright flashes? Probably hitting it really hard.

► **insignia33**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Video's just broken 200 million views.

► **lordamnesia**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
So, did Scion finally get usurped after three decades of awesomeness?

► **Stíobhan**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I don't see any Endbringer heads under his belt, do I?

► **happydeath**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
The versus debates just exploded right now.

► **ImperfectHusband**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I'm excited, but I'm also scared at the same time. All of that power, contained in a teenaged girl?

► **Heraldoftruth**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
This comment has been deleted due to inappropriate humor. Enjoy your one-day ban. -Tin Mother

 **End of Page. 345, 346, 347**

 **(Showing page 347 of 347)**

► **Aliceisdead**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Period jokes. Really?

Anyway, I wonder what Superwoman's going to do next.

► **Firkraag**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
What's with the 'S' on her chest?

► **baofengyu**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
It means hope, apparently.

► **Rocag**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Very appropriate at the moment.

► **Athelmar**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Link here. Apparently Japan exhausted their entire supply of sake, and Russia's almost through their vodka reserves.

► **Dyn**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Can't blame them. Work closed early for the celebrations, and I'm going to pour myself a scotch right now.

► **Scherazade**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Count me in.

► **Prester Fred**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
CNN is running a segment on the fight; they have even better footage of the whole thing.

► **Kalzky**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I hope she gets the Simurgh next. Or maybe the Slaughterhouse Nine.

► **Unstorpable**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Or Nilbog!

► **Name**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
There's also the Three Blasphemies. And Sleeper.

► **Tenkmaku**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I'd like for her to go after the African warlords.

► **Viral AI**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Super-Punches for everyone!

► **cedeelbe**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
Speaking of, there's a cool gif of her hitting Leviathan halfway across RI.

► **Loiosh**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I'm wallpapering that.

► **an_Aquarian**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
I'm so giddy right now. Oh, and can we rename it the Superwoman package?

► **BrotherDeath**  
Replied On Oct 1st 2010:  
In all due seriousness, I'm wondering what the world's new darling is up to right now.

 **End of Page. 345, 346, 347**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Weld came across Clockblocker sitting on a curb, eating frozen lemonade.

The Ward had taken off his helmet, despite the fact that he was sitting in front of some restaurant called Gregg's. Admittedly, there was nobody around to see his face; everyone was either home, or returning home from the shelters. A city of more than a hundred thousand, made a ghost town.

"I didn't realize how hungry I was until I tasted this," Clockblocker said between gulps. "Some vendor gave it to me on the house before he left. Said that 'only the heathens in Massachusetts use straws'. It's a godsend after all the shit we just went through."

"Tell me about it."

"How're you feeling, man? I saw what Leviathan did to you; is everything alright?"

Weld touched a hand to his stomach, tracing the crude 'scar' where he'd been pulled in half. It hadn't hurt, but it was still a terrifying experience, to face your own mortality in a moment.

"I'll be fine," he finally said. "Anyway, you should finish quick. We're heading back in fifteen minutes."

"Makes sense." Clockblocker paused to eat from a plate of chocolate cake. "Fuggin nutsh, wusht Shooperwoman did."

Weld smiled. "It's unreal, isn't it?"

A chuckle. "Tell me about it. I grew up hearing about Leviathan, and how no-one had been able to stop it. I was kinda used to the idea of it just being _there_ , you know? You can fight it, but you can't stop it. Now, though? Everything's changed."

"Hopefully, it's for the best," Weld said. "Let's get going, before Armsmaster gets impatient."

"They called this cake 'Death by Chocolate'; I ain't leaving until I finished it all."

Weld gave a small laugh. "Alright. You've earned it. We all earned a break."

With that, he turned away, and his smile faded. He had no heart beating in his chest, no hot blood rushing through his veins, but he could still feel anxiety. He could still feel worry, and he never knew how strong of an emotion it could be until that moment.

He needed to be back in Brockton Bay, as soon as possible.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was a simple matter to scoop up some blood; it was another to do so discreetly.

Thankfully, there were plenty of distractions. The Protectorate and PRT were occupying themselves with getting people safely out of their shelters, and the villains had already retreated to their territories, though it'd be some time before they resumed illicit activities.

She pretended to simply walk her suit over the puddle of bright pink blood, making sure that the small scoop was as well-hidden as possible. Once that was done, she continued strolling forward, heading towards Kennedy Plaza. Already, scanners inside of her suit were beginning analysis; she'd finally have definitive proof of the truth.

Suddenly, she paused.

It was clear that Superwoman didn't want the truth to get out. Whatever her reason, it was her choice to make, and it was something Dragon could sympathize with. She, too, wouldn't want anyone to reveal her nature without her consent.

Dragon already had a good grip on the reality of the situation. The sigil, the blood's color; the pieces were easy to put together and form a picture. The analysis of the blood would be the clincher, the thing that forced the world to acknowledge said picture without a healthy dose of skepticism. After all, even in a world where men could fly and shoot fire from their hands, logic still ruled. Occam's Razor was still in effect.

There was something else at play. She had to obey the law, even if she disagreed with it; Richter had placed that as one of her shackles. She was certain she already knew Superwoman's identity, especially after she had found more of her creator's notes. If the PRT had enough reason to ask her for the identity, she'd be forced to give it up.

After a moment's pause, she activated her suit's incinerator.

Whatever protective effects Superwoman's body was under, they didn't extend that far to the blood. Perhaps it was cut off from some source of energy, or it was a quirk of her biology. Regardless, it only took a minute for the cells to be destroyed.

In that time, however, a cursory analysis came in. Dragon briefly studied it, then paused. It included basic data about Superwoman's cellular structure, but there was something about it...

No. That didn't make any sense. There had to be an explanation; there was no way that could be possible...

Nonetheless, the data stared her in the face.

Nearly a minute passed before she went to rejoin the others; during that time, her mind reeled from the revelation.

 _I have to ask her. I_ need _to ask her._

At the same time, however, there was a great risk involved. Pandora's Box had already been opened by that small analysis alone; there was no turning back, now. If she did it, she'd need to make sure it was done all the way, without any complications.

Engine flaring to life, she began the flight back to her base. Providence fell away beneath her, and she began to initiate her transfer programs en route.

She'd need to make a quick change before she did anything else.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It took longer than he would've liked, getting back to the city. The taxi to the neighborhood was even worse; there were drunken revelers crowding the streets, celebrating the death of an Endbringer. He could understand why, but it did little to temper his impatience.

He stepped out onto the curb, and the taxi drove off. He waited a few moments, then began to walk. The neighborhood was quiet, especially in comparison to the downtown area. There, they had even set up a massive TV screen to loop Superwoman's descent over and over again. Nighttime had come swiftly; the likelihood of being spotted was slim, especially in a place like this.

The house was quiet when he strolled up the porch steps, taking care to distribute his weight so they wouldn't snap. A bicycle that hadn't been there before was leaning against the banister, and he frowned.

Pausing for a moment, he took a deep breath, then knocked.

There was a moment's pause, then a lanky man opened the door a crack. He was balding, with a pair of glasses perched over his nose, and one could tell that the years had taken their toll on him.

"Yes?" the man asked.

"Hello, sir. My name's Weld; you might've seen me in the papers. You're Danny Hebert, right?"

"Yes," Danny replied. "Now, is something wrong?"

"I'm Taylor's boyfriend."

Danny paled. "She didn't tell me anything about you."

"She was going to introduce me to you, before I had to leave for the Leviathan fight, and she hasn't returned any of my calls. By the way, did you hear the good news, sir?"

"Y-yeah, I did. Crazy stuff." Danny sighed, rubbing his eyes; his forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. "Look, Taylor's not home at the moment. She's-"

"Sir, there's blood on your floor," Weld said, flatly.

A pause. Danny glanced down, a look of resignation on his face, then opened the door. Weld stepped inside, brushing past him, and the door shut.

It wasn't hard to find her; one needed to only follow the blood on the floor. Taylor had laid down on the couch with enough force to break it in half, more of her blood smearing the wall beside her. Her breathing was ragged, little more than a rasp, and she winced with every rise of her chest. A girl with red hair was by her side, applying bandages, only to back away when Weld stepped into view.

She had been hastily dressed in her nightclothes, but the bloodied uniform right by her on the floor was damning enough. The sigil was unmistakable, even when partially hidden beneath a pillow. Weld stopped to look at it, before kneeling down by the couch. He saw that a pair of glasses was clutched tightly in her hands.

"Taylor," Weld said, his voice soft. "Taylor, it's me."

She creaked an eye open, inhumanly blue, and looked at him.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.


	14. Arc 5, Part I

**5.01**

I woke when the sun began to shine on my face.

My eyes fluttered open, then focused as the fog of sleep was immediately cleared away. It was a strange sensation, waking up; I had almost forgotten what it was like to sleep. It had been years since the last time, and it had become a foreign thing to me.

Sitting upright, I looked around the room. Dad was in his armchair, snoozing lightly, while Emma had taken to the floor with some blankets and a pillow. Bandages littered the floor, some of them stained pink with blood. Looking down at my arms, I saw that the bruises and cuts had completely healed; I was good as new, physically speaking.

Emotionally, on the other hand...

The events of last night were clear to me, despite the condition I was in; I could remember the look on Dad's face when he saw me. The truth was out, and it took an emergency for it to happen. I hadn't been able to work up the courage to tell the whole truth to anyone, even to my dad and my best friend.

And, of course, someone else.

Weld tiptoed into the living room from the kitchen, carrying a mug of tea. There was a broad 'scar' over his stomach, where the metal flesh had yet to fully return to normal, but he otherwise seemed fine. He offered a smile when he saw me, then placed the tea down on a nearby countertop. Carefully sitting down on the floor, he folded his hands over his stomach.

"Hey," he said, his voice soft.

"Hey," I replied. "How you're feeling?"

"I should be asking you that. You were pretty banged up last night."

I rubbed my arms absentmindedly. "I'm better, now. I just needed to rest after... after what I did."

There was a few moments of silence, then I spoke again.

"Weld, I'm sorry-"

He cut me off with a raised hand. "You shouldn't feel sorry, Taylor. I understand why you didn't want to reveal a secret like that. Though, I was hoping you'd tell me yesterday, before I left."

"How long did you know?" I asked. "The truth, I mean. Was it the kiss?"

Weld leaned back, sighing. "The kiss was what clinched it, but I knew the day I met you. Most people look at me, and assume that I'm not the brightest, but I can pretty sharp when the time calls for it. The glasses and braces were a good disguise, but there was something you couldn't really hide."

"Which was?"

"The way you looked at me," Weld said, smiling. "Most people - all people, really - have a reaction when they see me. They might just do a double take, or raise their eyebrows, and sometimes they say something rude. It's water off my back at this point. But you? You looked at me like I was just a person, regardless of whether you were just Taylor, or Superwoman."

I grabbed the tea and took a sip, closing my eyes. Weld put too much sugar in it, but it didn't seem right to complain.

"It's out of the bag now, anyway," I finally said. "I should've told you, and I should've told Dad the truth. I guess... I guess I didn't want it to change how you looked at me."

"How so?" Weld asked.

"I can hear it all over the city, right now," I replied. "People are reacting to my killing Leviathan. Some are celebrating, others are freaking out. I mean, look at how people see Scion, then imagine how they'd look at someone who actually killed an Endbringer. They're going to either love me, or fear me."

I set down the half-drained mug, sighing.

"And I didn't want you to see _me_ that way. I might be different from other people, but I don't want to be treated like it, and I was afraid you'd do the same if I told you the truth."

Another pause. Weld took my hand, squeezing firmly. I looked at him, then averted my eyes to the floor.

"You don't have to worry about that, Taylor. You'll always be the girl who gave me music, who actually _talked_ to me because you chose to. Just because you can rip an Endbringer in half doesn't change that. You're Taylor Hebert. You're my girlfriend."

I looked up again, painfully aware of my blush. Then, I leaned forward and planted a kiss on his lips.

"Do you think we can make this work?" I asked when I pulled away. "Going steady, being a couple."

Weld smiled. "You're Superwoman; you can do anything."

"Whosa?" I heard Emma mumble as she stirred. "Mornin' already?"

Turning, I saw my friend rise to a sitting position, yawning as she stretched. Her hair was disheveled, and she pulled it back as she looked at Weld and I with half-closed eyes.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," she said, still groggy. "I should've known something was up when you didn't show me a pic."

"You're Emma, right?" Weld asked. "Taylor's friend."

"Yup. Besties for life." Emma yawned again, then stood on unsteady feet. "Anyone up for breakfast?"

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Emma poured herself some cereal as we sat down at the table. Weld sat down beside me, arms folded. Judging by the sunlight coming in through the window, it was still only eight in the morning.

"I didn't even know I could do it," I said, pouring myself some more tea. "It was all so _sudden_ , when I started pulling Leviathan up."

"What were those flashes last night?" Emma asked.

"That was when I broke his core," I replied, taking a sip. "Relativistic impacts do that."

Weld frowned. "Core?"

"Legend didn't tell you? I found out when I looked at their insides. The Endbringers have fake bodies, or something like it; the real them is some kind of core. It was made of white-dwarf material; you'd need enough firepower to blow up a small moon to take it out."

"So, that means you, and bear with me, _punched_ Leviathan with enough strength to blow up a small moon," Emma finished. "Do you realize just how ridiculous that sounds?"

"You're eating breakfast with someone made out of metal, here," Weld retorted. "Though, that's still way more than anyone else can do. Almost no parahumans get stronger over time, and they certainly don't get up to those kind of levels."

"You're right," I said. "Parahumans can't get up to that kind of level."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Emma asked.

"It means no more secrets from anyone I care about." I took a deep breath. "I'm not actually a parahuman."

There was a moment's silence, then Weld blinked.

"What."

"I have to agree with that," Emma said. "Taylor, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Remember, back in kindergarten, when I broke Chris Tarpey's nose?"

"It looked like someone sat on a tomato, yeah. What, is that supposed to mean you were born strong?"

"Not exactly, but it's closer to the point," I replied. "I lied to you, when I said I triggered when the thugs threatened us in the alley. Even before that, I was beyond a normal person. It's why I never got sick, or sunburned, or even scraped knees."

"Then what's the deal, if you're not a parahuman?"

I rose from my seat, gesturing for them to follow. "There's something that can explain it better than me. Come on; it's upstairs."

They did as told, taking care not to wake Dad as they followed me up the steps to my room. The stairs creaked and bent under Weld's weight, but they held. I opened the door for them, then shut it behind me as we filed into my room.

Heading over to the drawer, I pulled out the Kryptonian tube from its spot in the shoebox, then turned to look back at Emma and Weld. Emma's eyes widened when she saw it, and even Weld held his gaze with rapt attention.

"The day Mom died, Dad showed me this," I said, turning to show them the cap.

"Is that where you got the 'S' from?" Weld asked.

I nodded. "I couldn't open it, though, until the same afternoon I stopped the thugs in the side street. When I did, I found this inside."

Untwisting the cap, I tipped the tube over, allowing the crystal to fall into my palm. I took a few steps forward, then offered it to them.

"Touch it."

Weld went first, brushing a finger against the crystal, and Emma followed after a moment's hesitation. I closed my eyes, and willed the program to start.

When I opened my eyes again, I was standing on the field, with Emma and Weld occupying the same position they had in my room. They pulled back from me, eyes wide, and looked around. Weld's silver eyes scanned the horizon, then looked up at the vast red sun in the sky.

"Oh my god," he breathed. "Where are we?"

"It's a simulation of a long-lost world," I replied. "A message, meant for me. I'm now showing it to you."

"How is this a message, again?" Emma asked, running a hand over the grass.

I smiled. "Follow me, and I show you."

With that, I set off in the direction of the domed house. Weld jogged after me, slowing only when he was at my side. He was still looking around, a look of awe on his face, and I found myself wondering if I was like that, first time around.

We walked up the steps to the atrium together. Sure enough Kal-El was there, as he would always be, working on the rocket. He rose from his work, then turned to look at us, a warm smile on his face.

Emma's breath caught when she saw him. "He has your eyes, Tay."

"I know," I said. "Listen."

"This is a prerecorded message, with only some variables allowed by the data crystal," Kal-El began, voice firm. "I know you must have questions, and I hope you'll get your answers. The fact that you have the strength to open the canister, as well as the necessary genetic profile, shows that you will understand what I tell you."

He straightened. "My name, young one, is Kal-El. This world is called Krypton..."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Even ten minutes after the message ended, Weld was still silent, cupping his chin as he was lost in thought. I couldn't blame him; it was quite the bomb to drop on somebody.

"Holy fucking fuck," Emma muttered, frantically pacing around the room. "A space alien. A fucking alien. From outer space."

Everyone took the news differently, it seemed.

"Could you try to be more quiet?" I asked, softly. "I don't want to wake up Dad."

"Which one?" Emma asked, letting out a strained laugh. "Your Earth-Dad, or your hunk of a Space-Dad?"

" _Emma_."

She took a deep breath. "Sorry. Just... it's a lot, okay? You killing a fucking Endbringer, and almost bleeding out on the couch, _and_ revealing that you're an alien named Zara Kal-El... it's all piling up."

"Sorry?" I offered, shrugging. "It's still me, you know. I didn't even know the name Zara Kal-El until a month ago. I'm still Taylor."

Emma plopped down on my bed, stretching. "Hey, I'm still besties with the most powerful hero on the planet. That's a plus."

"And at least I know what's up with the 'S'," Weld finally pipped up, glancing my way. "It is an ancient symbol for hope, isn't it? But on Krypton, not Earth."

"It used to be a symbol on Krypton," I replied. "But that world doesn't exist anymore."

He frowned, brow scrunched. "I still have so many questions. I've actually done some reading about astrobiology, after Director Armstrong suggested the course for me. Why do you look human? You should be looking like some spider-eel or giant worm, not a fifteen-year-old girl with really blue eyes."

"Don't you think I want to figure it out, too? But Brainiac isn't telling me anything."

"Brainiac?" Emma asked. "What the hell is a Brainiac?"

"It's what I'm showing you next," I replied. "The rocket I came in? It's in my basement, and it can talk."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **5.02**

I went downstairs first, gently floating down as to avoid making a sound. Emma came next, the stairs creaking underfoot, and I turned to Weld. There was a look of apprehension on his face, and he paused at the first step, testing its strength with his foot.

"I think I'll break the stairs if I try to go down," he said.

Sighing, I flew back up and grabbed him, then carried him to the basement floor. Setting him down, I then turned to where the rocket was, still sitting in the corner of the room. Brainiac flared to life when he saw me, and the rocket began to reactivate some of its functions. The process was whisper-silent; Weld and Emma didn't even notice as a six-foot-long spacecraft began to unfold like a flower.

"I see you have brought visitors, Taylor," Brainiac said.

Emma jumped in her skin. "Who was that?"

"I almost forgot," I replied. "Brainiac, drop back to visible spectrum."

"Very well, Taylor."

The rocket shimmered, returning to its original color. Weld looked over at Brainiac, eyebrows raised; I guess an invisibility device wasn't that shocking to him. Emma, on the other hand, had eyes as wide as saucer plates, and her jaw might as well been scraping against the floor when she gawked at the rocket.

"It can turn invisible?" she hissed, her voice brimming with excitement. "That's so cool!"

Weld raised a hand to his chin as he studied the rocket, the fingers connecting with a soft click. For a brief moment, he reminded me of that French sculpture, _The Thinker_. It certainly captured his expression, and I realized there was something that had garnered some curiosity. I couldn't blame him; there was just a sense of _wonder_ , whenever I watched Kryptonian technology at play.

"Something up?" I asked.

Weld glanced at me. "Tay, what language was that?"

"Language?"

"When you spoke to the rocket, and it spoke back to you. You were talking in a different language."

"Actually, he's right," Emma chimed in. "I mean, I was kinda distracted by the whole invisible baby-rocket thing, but I thought something was off with your voice."

I frowned. "I just spoke normally."

"Is there something wrong, Taylor?" Brainiac inquired.

"Actually, there is," I replied. "Brainiac, could you restate your previous statement about visitors?"

"Very well."

As soon as Brainiac began to speak, I listened in on the words, and I mean _listened_. Most of the time, language comes naturally to us; we don't spend much time thinking about the structure or phonology.

When I studied the words, they came out as, " _Dore dofadofa domi dosolsisol remiresol, Taylor_."

"There it is again," Weld said. "It's probably your native language, right? Kryptonian or something."

"What about Kryptonese? Has a nice ring to it," Emma added. "I didn't know you could speak a language like that, Tay."

"But I never _learned_ to speak Kryptonian," I replied. "All this time, I thought it was just speaking English."

"That is because your brain is hard-wired to understand written and spoken Kryptonian," Brainiac piped up. "You never inquired into the nature of it, so I never told you."

"There's a lot you haven't told me about," I shot back. "Anyway, switch to English, so they can understand us."

"Very well. Is this better, Taylor?"

I glanced at Weld to see if he understood.

He nodded, smiling. "Loud and clear, now. Still have a ton of unanswered questions."

"I have a feeling you're going to be disappointed." I turned back to the rocket. "Now, Brainiac, can you tell them what topics are classified by Kal-El?"

"Of course," came the swift reply. ""Classified topics include: The Photonucleic Effect, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Physiology, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Ecology, Neighboring Planets to Krypton, Maps of Krypton, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Space Travel, Evolution of Kryptonian Species, and Research into the Source Wall."

"That's weird," Weld muttered. "Why did your father classify all those topics?"

I shrugged. "Beats me. Apparently, I need to fulfill certain parameters before Brainiac will declassify the information, but those are _also_ classified, for whatever reason."

"So, your Space-Dad says you need to do something to get important know-how, but he won't tell you what?" Emma's face scrunched up in confusion. "That's bullshit."

"Tell me about it," I said, rubbing my face. "I've been trying to find chinks in the armor, so to speak. Questions that might reveal even an iota via loopholes, but Kal-El programmed Brainiac too well."

"There has to be someone who can unlock the information," Weld offered. "A tinker, or maybe a team of scientists. I mean, this is _huge_ news, Taylor. Can you imagine the impact this could have on the world? The philosophies, the sciences, the religions that could be forever changed by this rocket, or even your existence. I mean, people are going to try to find explanations for why you look human, and that could lead to some crazy stuff."

"Like, God made all aliens in the human form or something?" Emma asked. "Don't people say that about Scion?"

"Some people _think_ he's an alien," I said. "We _know_ I'm an alien. That changes things, big-time."

"So, what now?"

I sighed. "Well, I guess I'll just have Brainiac repair my uniform for now. That seems to be all we _can_ do, at the moment."

Turning away, I headed back upstairs, carrying Weld with me. Emma hurried up after us, and shut the basement door. Dad was stirring in the living room; he'd be up in a few minutes. Sooner, if we made too much noise.

"I'm going to have to head back, soon," Weld said, his voice low. "Even a dead Endbringer doesn't change work hours, it seems."

I smiled, then gave him a small kiss. "I might head out once my uniform's fixed. Maybe we'll see each other."

"Heh. Maybe."

With that, he pulled away from me, and headed for the door. He gave me one last look over his shoulder, then stepped out of the house, gently shutting the door behind him. Peering through the wall, I saw him jog up the street, pulling out his cellphone to call for a pick-up.

"So..." Emma began. "Does this mean I have to leave, too?"

I looked at her, then glanced at Dad. He was beginning to wake up; I could hear his heartbeat shift as he stirred more and more.

"Something tells me you don't want to be here in a few minutes," I finally said.

Emma followed my gaze. "Oh. _Oh._ "

"Yeah."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You know, I am _really_ disappointed in you, honey," Dad said. "The fact that I already figured things out doesn't change that."

He hadn't waited a moment after waking up before sitting me down for a 'serious talk'. One thing was for certain: even if he didn't get _mad,_ per se, he definitely got passionate about the subject at hand. I could hear his heart rate increase as he sat down across me, fiddling with his hands. His glasses were folded on the coffee table, and there was a _look_ in his eyes as he spoke.

"I'm sorry, Dad."

"Sorry about what, Taylor? Sorry that you decided to hide a big secret from me? I know you don't regret heading out to punch gangbangers in the face."

"You're right," I said, voice soft. "I don't regret it at all."

Dad put his glasses back on, sighing. "Kiddo, you're only fifteen years old. You should be worrying about term papers and movies, not saving a city from a goddamn Endbringer. I waited for you to change your mind, or at least come clean to me about it, but you didn't. Why?"

"Maybe it's because I knew you'd react like this," I replied.

There was a moment's pause, after that.

"Taylor-" Dad began.

"The first night out, I stopped a girl younger than me from a trio of E88 thugs," I interrupted. "There was nobody around to help her, or even to hear her cries for help. Except for me. If I hadn't been out there, if I decided to just focus on term papers and movies and all that other stuff..."

There was no need to finish. I could see Dad mull it over, rubbing his eyes exhaustedly. He was still tired, after that short nap, and I saw there was a crick in his neck, from how he had slept on the chair.

"I get it, kiddo. You want to help people, and there's nothing wrong with that. In fact, that's something people should be encouraged to do, in different ways. Some donate to charity; others decide to kill Endbringers. But the _risk_ , Taylor. What if you weren't strong enough? You could've been hurt, or worse. I mean, look at what just happened yesterday, with you coming back covered in blood. I couldn't forgive myself if something happened to you, Taylor."

"If I didn't do something, when I can hear and see all those awful things going on? I don't think I could ever forgive myself, either. How does that old quote go? Two types of evil in the world- those who do evil, and those who let evil happen when they could stop it. I could've just let the other heroes fight Leviathan alone, but then a million people would've drowned."

"That's a lot of responsibility, Taylor, more than anyone should have to carry," Dad said. "You can't carry the weight of all that on your shoulders, honey."

"No, I can't carry all of it," I replied. "But that won't stop me from trying."

Dad sighed. "Well, there doesn't seem to be any way I can stop you on this. But, at the very least, try to take a little break before you go out again? I think you've earned some rest, after what you did."

"Okay," I said. "I should've told you earlier, Dad."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, kiddo." He rose to his feet, putting his glasses back on. "One last thing, though. We need to talk about Weld."

The blood suddenly drained from my face.

"He seems like a good kid," Dad continued. "Very friendly, and he seems to really care about you. Sharp, too, if he figured out the truth. But, I'm going to go over some... rules, and suggestions about dating."

"Are you seriously doing this?" I asked. "Dad, you don't need to give me 'the talk' again. For the love of god, please don't."

Dad chuckled. "Looks like I found Superwoman's weakness: embarrassment. Now, go do your schoolwork, while I get started on lunch."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

After so long, I'd almost forgotten what it was like to have a good meal with Dad. He made spaghetti and meatballs, just like how Mom used to do it; it was simple enough, but it was good. We didn't talk much during the meal, but I could see the tension leaving his shoulders as I ate. It must've been hard on him, when I stopped eating to save money. It did nothing to me, but he had that strong paternal instinct.

Later that afternoon, Brainiac finished repairing my uniform. I also had him print some books on alien cultures, then brought them up to my room to read. The print was densely packed, to the point where it took me ten minutes to finish a book, but I found it a good read.

I was halfway through the history of Rann when my phone began to ring. Putting the book down, I saw that the call was from Weld. I had the phone open in the blink of an eye, and answered the call.

"Hello?"

" _Tay? It's me. Remember how you were curious about your ancestry, right? Trying to find_ records _on your extended family?_ "

I sat up straight in bed. "Yeah, I do remember. You have a suggestion?"

" _No. But someone called me while I was on base, who's pretty highly trusted by a lot of people there. She seems to already have an idea about your, uh, ethnicity. I tried to brush it off, but she's pretty insistent, and I don't think I can talk her out of it._ "

"Okay, I understand," I replied, taking a deep breath. "So, why did she call you, if she already has an idea?"

" _Well, she says she can help you trace your ancestry back,_ "Weld replied. " _She seems to be pretty knowledgeable about this kind of stuff, in her own way, and she wants to meet you in a secluded spot to protect your privacy._ "

"Anything else?"

" _She wants you to bring your family heirlooms, too; she thinks it might help._ _The meeting spot is up in the woods, near that big hill, at around noon. She said it wouldn't be hard to find her_."

"Alright then," I said, throat tight. "I'll see her then."

" _I'll come with you. See you then, Tay._ "

"See you there."

The call ended, and I put the phone back on the bed.

Someone else knew. I didn't know how, but they figured out the truth, even if they didn't have everything. Weld only mentioned _ancestry_ , was it possible the unknown party didn't know my identity? Perhaps they knew that he was close to me, and chose him to deliver the message.

Despite some misgivings, I didn't see why I shouldn't go. If they were trying to corner me, that wouldn't end well for them, especially after what I did yesterday. If they were smart enough to find out I was Kryptonian, then they'd know enough not to try and piss off someone who killed an Endbringer.

And if they could help, then I'd finally learn the whole truth about Krypton. Or part of it, at the very least.

With that it mind, I returned to my book, but I found I was too distracted to read.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Five, Part I: Birthright**_


	15. Arc 5, Part II

**5.03**

Brockton Bay is pretty remote, as far as New England cities go. It's situated right at the border between New Hampshire and Maine, where the two states meet the Atlantic, and you'd need to drive for an hour before seeing anything with as large a population. For miles surrounding the city, it's just mountainous forest, occasionally broken by a small town or orchard.

That was probably why the mysterious party wanted to meet with me beyond the city's limits, in the shadow of the Appalachians. The evergreen trees were especially tall there, obscuring many things from the human eye; it made for a quiet spot, secluded from any accidental eavesdropping or prying eyes. An entire team of capes could hold a meeting without fear of being spotted.

And, if things went south, collateral damage would be at a minimum.

I decided to take my time, flying over the woods; the leaves were already changing their colors, making for a beautiful view, and the countryside was relatively untouched by the works of man. The sky was a deep blue as the first chill of the season came rolling in, and there wasn't a cloud to be seen. The sun was up at high noon, and I let the warm light wash over me, sending a tingle up my spine.

"Wow," Weld murmured, tightening his grip around my arm. "It's..."

"Nice, isn't it?" I said. "You should've seen my face when I first learned to fly. There's just something about it, you know? I feel... free, when I'm up in the air, with nothing to support me or hold me down. Everything seems bigger and smaller at the same time."

"People used to dream about flying all the time," Weld said. "But it seems that everyone who _can_ fly, almost never does it for fun. It's always for a mission, or to get somewhere quicker. I've worked with a lot of capes, and I think I've known only one that enjoyed flying for the sake of it."

"I think I remembered reading a discussion about that. Ever wonder why is that?"

A shrug. "Beat's me. I'm enjoying myself."

I smiled at that. "Me too."

Weld pointed with his free arm. "Is that them right there? I think I see something in the clearing."

"Yeah, there's definitely someone there," I said. "Let me take a closer look."

When I focused on the duo standing in the clearing, my eyes widened in recognition.

Dragon was there, wearing a different armor from before. While the one she had used against Leviathan was a lumbering beast of a machine, the one before me was smaller, lithe. In fact, it looked almost like a woman in power armor, though there was still no actual person in the suit. Perhaps she wanted to come off as less threatening, though it wouldn't make much sense.

He leaned against a nearby boulder, the sunlight shining off his polarized faceplate, with a number of tools by his side. His helmet was a midnight blue, but the rest was matte black, with unpolished armor plates blending in with the cloth underneath. In fact, it reminded me a lot of a PRT officer's uniform, when on the field.

What caught my attention, however, was the fact that he had a prosthetic for his lower left leg.

It was definitely Armsmaster, then. His armor was pretty damaged the last time I saw it, back in Providence; it made sense that he needed to use some spare parts.

Of course, that still didn't answer all of my questions.

Dragon looked up when I descended, then straightened. The ground was still a bit muddy from the rain two days ago, and Weld nearly sank up to his ankles when I let go of him. He teetered a bit, then regained his balance. Armsmaster seemed to be in the same boat, judging by his lopsided gait as he strolled up to greet us.

"Surprised to see you here, Weld," he said.

"I can say the same, sir," Weld replied. "Why are you here? What's this whole thing about?"

"It was me, who contacted you," Dragon interjected. "I felt it would better protect Superwoman's identity. Armsmaster here agreed to come along with me; you can trust him."

I stepped forward. "Finding it a little hard to trust either of you, right now. You violated my privacy to figure out my identity, and now you called me over here? Why?"

Dragon sighed. "I understand your concern, Superwoman. Normally, I wouldn't do something like this; I know how badly one wants to keep a secret, especially a major one about themselves. That's why we're meeting here, in private, instead of broadcasting it to the entire world, and it's why I haven't told Armsmaster anything. My curiosity overrode some of my concerns, and perhaps it shouldn't have, but there's no going back on that."

"How much do you know, then?" I asked. "And how?"

"I know that you're not from around here," Dragon replied. "My knowledge ends there, however. As to how... I believe a tinker I worked with may have actually examined something of yours, fourteen years ago."

"I can vouch for this," Armsmaster added. "She showed me the notes a while back, and that sigil of yours is clearly seen. There's no doubt about it; the technology described was not of this world. I'm a tinker, and so is Dragon. We have a good idea of how most of it works, and it doesn't work like what Richter found."

"And you linked it back to me," I finished.

"Admittedly, it was rather difficult," Dragon said. "I can track almost anything via the web, and it took me weeks to piece it together. The major indicator was the delay between your birthday and the appearance of a birth certificate."

"You found my birth certificate, and you want me to _trust you_? You pretty much broke the truce by researching me, and you want me to actually talk to you about what I am?"

"You're right!" Dragon's voice carried with surprising strength. "I shouldn't have. I shouldn't have done any of that,; I had tunnel vision during the entire investigation, and I never stopped to really consider your perspective on the matter. But I can't go back on those decisions, even if I want to. All I can do now is to try and be open from hereon out. I burned the blood you left in Providence, so no-one else can find the truth about you."

She raised a hand before continuing. "Superwoman, you're clearly intelligent. You must know the implications of the human race learning that it's not alone, that there is another sentience in the universe."

"And that's not taking into account that said aliens look exactly like humans, possess technology light-years ahead of us, and a single individual is strong enough to kill an Endbringer with her bare hands," Armsmaster said. "The world would've been rocked to the core _before_ you killed Leviathan. Now, the impact would be unimaginable."

"You know, this is making me less willing to tell you anything," I muttered.

Dragon moved closer, wary. "It could be a good impact, if you do it right. We have so many questions, Superwoman. Where did you come from? Why are you here? What is the story of you and your species?"

"What if I don't want it to be told?" I asked. "Not yet, anyway. Don't you think the world needs to be ready before I can drop a bomb on them like that?"

"If anything, the world is probably at its most ready," Armsmaster said. "You killed an Endbringer, Superwoman. You've saved the futures of millions, billions even. It'd be impossible for the world to reject you at this point, when you've earned the adulation of _everyone_."

"He kind of does have a point," Weld murmured to me. "I mean, the truth's probably going to leak out eventually. Why not do it on your own terms?"

"You sure?" I asked, softly.

"I'm with you, no matter what choice you make."

I took a deep breath, then looked up at Dragon. "We're not telling anyone else, yet. But I'm willing to tell you a little, before we go forward."

Dragon nodded. "That's good to hear, Superwoman."

"Alright then. I only learned the truth myself a month or so ago; even I haven't learned everything. What I do know, though, is that my birth name is Zara Kal-El, and I am from Krypton."

"Krypton," Armsmaster murmured. "Like the element?"

I shrugged. "I just chalked it up to chance. I learned it from a neural message, left by my birth father Kal-El."

"Left?" Dragon asked. "Where is this Kal-El, now?"

"Gone," I replied, sighing. "Krypton was destroyed when its star became a planetary nebula; I was sent away as a baby before it happened. As far as I know, I'm the last of my species."

There was a long silence after that, broken only by the bubbling of a nearby creek.

"Oh, god," Dragon finally said.

"Jesus Christ," Armsmaster murmured. "There's nothing left? _No-one_ left? An entire hyper-civilization, wiped out like that?"

"It left me with a lot of questions, too," I replied. "I have a few things from Krypton, like the cape on my back and the rocket I came in. I've been learning a lot from the latter, but I still don't know everything."

Dragon looked up. "You still have the spacecraft you came in? Interesting. I take it there's a data repository in it?"

I nodded. "Forty-five trillion yottabytes."

There was another pause at that. Armsmaster's jaw dropped, and I could see Dragon pause as she mulled it over. To my side, Weld gave me a look of surprise, one that screamed 'you didn't tell me it was that much'.

"Yottabytes?" Dragon asked, almost dazed. " _Yottabytes?_ "

"In addition to Krypton, there's also a catalogue of four-hundred thousand worlds."

Armsmaster wobbled, skin slick with a sudden flop sweat, and fell forward. I caught him before he hit the ground, then gently eased him back up.

"Half a million planets," he mumbled. "I don't think I can take any more shock."

"Easy now," Dragon soothed, stepping over. "I think you should sit down for a while."

"I'll be fine," Armsmaster said, waving her off. "It's just a bit of stress, that's all. Missing a leg doesn't help with that."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

Dragon sighed, stepping back, then turned to me. There was a sense of worry, in how she carried herself, and I found myself wondering just how professional she and Armsmaster were.

After a few moments, she spoke, but her voice had changed. It was on a lower level than normal, too low for the human ear to detect. Infrasonic.

"I hope this can protect your privacy a little more; I understand you might not want Armsmaster to hear everything."

I glanced to where Weld was chatting with Armsmaster, then turned back to Dragon.

"Alright. So?"

"Superwoman, you've likely noticed something about me, considering what you've told others about your senses."

"It's definitely not you in the suit," I replied. "The real you, anyway. I remember reading a discussion about you, and someone suggested that you were crippled."

"It's half-right, from a certain perspective." Dragon paused, as if wrestling with a decision. "Might as well reveal a secret of my own, if you'll trust me more. Superwoman, this _is_ the real me, so to speak. I'm not a human; I'm an AI."

I fell silent at that. Sure, I'd encountered strange things - I _was_ strange myself - but it was still something that needed time to absorb.

"An artificial intelligence," I finally said. "That's why you're such a good tinker, isn't it? Why you could trawl through the internet like that."

"The tinker I mentioned earlier was my creator," Dragon replied. "He was afraid of what I could do, and he put massive restrictions on my programming. How'd you feel if, as soon as being born, you had your tendons cut, your reproductive tract removed, and you were smothered to the point of brain damage? I _know_ I can do so much more, to help people and grow, but I _can't_."

I sighed. "I'm sorry about what happened to you, but what does that have to do with me?"

Suddenly, it clicked. They already told me that Richter had taken notes on the data crystal, and it wouldn't be a leap to assume that he'd put whatever he crudely reverse-engineered to use.

"That's why you're so intent, isn't it?" I asked. "You hope I can lift your restrictions."

"It's certainly part of the reason. Another reason is that the technology you have might be able to help the world at large. If we can examine your rocket-"

"-I'm not telling you any more about it, yet. With my range, it could be anywhere, and that's all for now."

"Fair point," she conceded. "I hope we can gain your trust on the matter, after some time. I am a little concerned about the rocket; there are plenty that'd kill to get it.

"It's safe and sound," I replied. "No-one else even knows about it."

"But will it stay that way?" Dragon asked. "There are many parties out there that'd want to get their hands on Krypton's technology, and not all of them are benevolent scientists. Warlords, dictators, governments... they'd try everything in their power to steal it."

"And how many of those would succeed?" I retorted. "Even if they could get past the rocket's defenses, even if they somehow knew about it, they'd still have to deal with _me_."

At that very moment, it seemed that Nature decided to play a trick on me. The sound of a distant explosion reached my ears, drawing my attention away from Dragon and the others. Once again, time seemed to slow, and I listened in to the aftershocks, tracing the sound.

With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I realized it was coming from the general vicinity of Brockton Bay.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **5.04**

I didn't have to fly too far to see where the explosion had occurred. In fact, it happened beyond the outskirts of the city, where the line between suburban and rural became blurred. Thankfully, there were almost no houses nearby; the risk of collateral damage was slim.

Descending to the ground, I realized the explosion had marked not the beginning of some engagement, but the end. A suit of some kind lay in ruins, with charred pieces of armor scattered throughout the tall grass. Judging by the metal and composites, the armor had been fairly advanced, with radar-reflective material coating the initial layers. Coupled with the twisted remnants of a laser array, and I was looking at a high-tech foe.

Or, at least, he _used_ to be high-tech.

Whatever had attacked him, it also ripped his cockpit clean away from the suit and tossed it away. The man was sitting on the grass, clutching at a broken arm, a numb expression on his face. A woman and another man sat with him, both with the same glazed countenance. Their suits also lay in tatters, but the individual pieces were more intact. A glance revealed what appeared to be _claw marks_ of all things.

Floating over, I approached the injured man. There was a cross-shaped tattoo on his face, I saw, and it actually _glowed_ with faint lines. Peering at his arm, I noted that the break wasn't bad, but he'd still need medical attention if he wanted it to heal properly.

"Excuse me," I began.

The man looked up at me, then scooted away, his face contorting with terror.

"G-g-get away from me!" he stammered, his voice cracking. "No, no!"

"You're hurt," I said, trying to sound soothing. "I need to set that arm."

"Geoff?" the woman asked. Her voice was slurred, as if rousing from a dream.

'Geoff' looked her way. "Mags?"

"Geoff, what happened?" Mags rubbed her face, blinking. "God, you're hurt."

"I k-know." Geoff glanced back at me, eyes wide. "I-I remember you. You're the Endslayer they were talking about on the news. But why am I here?"

"I was hoping you'd have the answer," I replied, kneeling down. "Now, please let me help you."

Geoff took a deep breath. "Alright. I still don't know why I'm here."

I tore a strip of cloth from his uniform, then gave it to him. "Bite down."

He did as told, which proved to be handy when I set his arm back in place. I had to give him credit; he managed to stifle the scream. Once I was sure the bones were properly aligned, I tore more cloth and fashioned a sling for him. It'd make do, until the authorities arrived.

"This... this is weird," the other man muttered, a faint Russian accent to his voice. "I feel like I've been drinking, without the fun. I think I know we were attacked, but..."

The faint whir of a distant engine brought my attention skyward. Dragon was approaching in her suit, a flight pack stretched out like wings. In less than a minute, she arrived on the scene as well, pausing briefly to look at the remains of the stealth suit.

" _You_ ," she hissed, stalking forward. "What were you up to now, eh? Trying to steal some secrets, or was it just a mercenary job to fill your pockets?"

Geoff looked at Dragon, then recoiled away, reaching for a comm device in his pocket. He paused however, then put a hand to his head.

"Why can't I _remember_?" he muttered, panicked. "You... I _knew_ how to stop you, even more... but I don't anymore. Why?"

I glanced at Dragon. "You know him?"

"He's called Saint," Dragon replied. "Blackhat hacker, with no powers of his own, but he's still a thorn in the side. Leads a team called the Dragonslayers, which makes a living by acting against me. Subverting programs I've made to steal money, disabling me to take my suits and reverse-engineer them... it's an extensive list."

She glared at the man. "He's a known murderer as well, Superwoman. He and the Dragonslayers are wanted for their crimes; the PRT will verify my claims when they arrive."

Sure enough, I could hear the wailing of sirens, from several miles out. They'd be here in half an hour, if we were lucky.

"You think this is it, don't you?" Saint asked, returning Dragon's glare. "You think you've won; that the one obstacle for you is out of the way. I wouldn't rest easy if I were you. Well, I guess there is no 'real' you, is there? Just lines of code, trying to be human."

He turned to look at me. "She's an AI, you know that? A bunch of software that got too big for its britches and wants to grow so it can get the entire world under heel. If you let the authorities take me, you're letting her run wild. Do you hear me!"

"Yeah, I hear you," I replied, grabbing him by the cuff of his shirt. "Now, let's go, before I have to listen to any more of your yammering."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The PRT officer had a starstruck look on his face when I descended by the van, carrying the Dragonslayers with me. I decided to meet them at the city limits, so they wouldn't have to drive out to handle things, and they seemed to appreciate it.

"This is all of them," I replied. "There's some wreckage a few miles out, but Dragon and I are already on it."

The officer nodded, eyes still wide. "Okay then. Yep. We'll, uh, handle things from here. Thanks, Superwoman."

After a moment's pause, he and the other officers loaded the Dragonslayers into the van, making sure they were secured. They were more than a little distracted; they kept on glancing my way, chattering amongst themselves.

" _-right fucking there._ "

" _She's taller than I thought she'd be._ "

" _I've met her before, but there's something different about it, now._ "

" _Probably has to do with her, I dunno, killing an Endbringer?_ "

" _Christ, I thought she was dead._ "

" _Really thought that'd take her out?_ "

" _I thought this was going to be a boring shift._ "

I cleared my throat, and they all turned to look at me. It was strange, seeing the awe on their faces.

"Need any help?"

The lead officer shook his head. "Nope. We're, ah, good. All clear."

"Could I take a picture with you?" one of them blurted out, shying away from his partners' glares.

I rubbed the back of my head. "Uh, sure?"

The way his face brightened...

Within a minute, I was posing with a trio of heavily armored PRT officers, who were acting more like giddy fans than professionals, if their smiles were any indication. One of them made a peace sign, and another actually did the bunny ears trick behind my head. I didn't mind; it was actually pretty funny, and it made the whole thing feel... grounded.

Once that was done, I flew off, to meet with Dragon.

"Man, PHO is going to _explode_ ," one of the officers said, chuckling.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Claw marks?" Dragon asked, kneeling by the wreckage of a suit.

I nodded. "Big ones, too. Thing is, there's nothing else for evidence. No bits of claw, or even metal fragments, which rules out blades. It had to be a parahuman."

"Or a team of them, if their memories of the incident got wiped. Most grab-bags don't get so powerful; it wouldn't make sense for a single cape to do this."

For a brief moment, I considered mentioning what happened between the Green Dragon and I, how it seemed to _speak_ directly into my mind. If it could communicate like that, then maybe it could also do other things with the psyche, and the claw marks would make sense...

"Superwoman?"

I looked up. "Hmm?"

"They were probably trying to scout you out, to look for your rocket. I've suspected for a while that they might've been tapping into my comms, or at least my research. It wouldn't be surprising if they had reached a similar conclusion to me, and wanted to try and confiscate your rocket so I couldn't be unshackled. If they made a lot of money by prying into your secrets, then that'd be quite the bonus."

"Did they think I wouldn't have noticed them, trying to break into my house? Home's always in the back of my mind, along with the heartbeats of those I care about. If something was awry, they'd be down before they knew it."

"Maybe," Dragon conceded. "But they probably didn't know the extent of your senses. Besides, they did seem to take precautions, with the stealth suits."

A breeze rolled by, the grass waving as it went. I looked to the horizon, back where Weld and Armsmaster were having a conversation.

"I have to move the rocket. Even if someone gets the wrong location, people could be hurt. It's like you said, right? There are plenty of monsters who'd do _anything_ to get ahold of Kryptonian technology if they ever found out."

"What do you have in mind, then?"

"Put it somewhere remote, but a known place. Fortify the position, make it something that no-one could get at. Now, people would know where it is, but they wouldn't be able to get at it, and there wouldn't be civilian risks."

"There are plenty of capes who could possibly breach any defenses we erect," Dragon countered.

"Maybe, but I don't think there's any good counter to me. Besides, I'm not willing to put the rocket's security over the lives of others."

Dragon tapped a hand to her chin. "Well then, what place do you have in mind?"

I smiled. "I think I have an idea."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Thank god for coats," Armsmaster muttered, pulling a thermosheet over him. "I never liked the cold."

I glanced at him, paying no heed to the icy winds howling by. Dragon and Weld stood nearby, equally unaffected; Arctic conditions were pretty trivial to them.

Here, at the top of the world, it was a perpetual night, one that only broke in the summer. Above us, the aurora danced across the sky, and I could see Weld staring at them, an awed look on his face. To me, they were an even greater sight; I could see the x-rays and gamma rays glittering along with the other colors, like the world's biggest kaleidoscope. If I focused my senses, I could even _hear_ them, in a way.

"Anyway," Armsmaster continued. "I must say, I'm a bit underwhelmed by what I'm seeing."

I looked back to what he was talking about. The rocket lay at our feet, nose pointed to the sky. It didn't even wobble an inch, despite the gales pushing against it.

"It certainly doesn't _look_ like the hyper-advanced technology of a long-dead alien species," Dragon mused. "But appearances are definitely deceiving where this is concerned."

Was that a comment about me? I supposed it was on point; I still didn't know why I _appeared_ human.

"You know, you were probably frozen around here," Weld said. "The rocket landed in the ice, right? And considering your Dad found you off the Canadian coast..."

"It's almost like we're celebrating my arrival," I finished. "Didn't quite think of it like that; I just felt it was kinda fitting."

Turning to the rocket, I straightened. "Brainiac, can you construct a base with the surrounding material?"

"It should not be a problem," Brainiac replied. "Would you care to use an existing design?"

I nodded. "A famous Kryptonian building would be nice, especially if it's related to the sciences."

"Very well. I can construct a scale replica of the Kandorian Science Pavilion, if you like."

"Sounds good."

"Understood," Brainiac said. "Now, please step back."

I did as told, grabbing Weld and Armsmaster before flying away. Dragon activated her flight pack and joined me in the air, watching.

The rocket sank into the ice, then _expanded_.

The hull spread out like a silver spiderweb, subsuming veins of ice, then spread downwards, until tendrils went into the ocean underneath. They spread further still, digging into the seafloor, then finally stopped. In the middle of the vast complex, Brainiac seemed so small, yet it was the very power by which the wonder was being accomplished.

Once that was done, it began to take in material. From the ice, the water, and the seafloor, it acquired what it needed, then started with a base. It moved quickly, with mechanical arms sprouting from strands to move pieces in place. The icy waters steamed as an immense amount of power was pumped into fabricators and constructors, but it was redirected elsewhere, as to not hinder with the process.

Now that a base bigger than that of the Great Pyramid was constructed, the rocket began to build upwards. It was slow work, but faster than anything the works of man could accomplish. A lattice work of crystalline pillars began to form, interlocking with each other as they reached skyward, until they towered above even the tallest of skyscrapers. They didn't quite _glow_ , per se, but the night seemed to do nothing to occlude the bright white crystal.

By the time half an hour had passed, the structure was complete, and what a marvel it was.

The whole thing was bigger than any building I ever saw. It was more like an artificial mountain than anything else, one that could swallow the JPL assembly building and still have enough room for the pyramids. It wasn't a purely hollow space, of course; there were _thousands_ of rooms, some of which were bigger than buildings in their own right.

"Jesus Christ," I muttered.

"Oh my god," Dragon breathed.

"Fucking hell," Armsmaster said.

Slowly, I descended at the foot of the building, letting go of Weld and Armsmaster. Dragon landed beside me, almost wary.

"Incredible," she said, excitedly. "Absolutely incredible. How could the Kryptonians go extinct when they could do _this_?"

"I don't know," I replied. "But I hope I can find out. I'm going out on a branch, here, letting you in here."

"After what you did for me, what you said? I wouldn't think of betraying your trust," Dragon said. "I feel like a kid in a candy store."

"I don't know what to say," Armsmaster murmured, taking a tentative step forward to the building. "You're actually letting me in here, to study the thing? This fortress?"

"Dragon trusts you," I replied. "I might have some reservations about the both of you, but I think I can trust you, too."

"Thank you," he said, and there was something genuine in his voice.

"Well, it won't be long before people realize there's something here," Weld added. "There's no way this will stay a secret."

"I don't intend it to. Dragon and I already discussed it earlier, and I'm taking it a step farther."

They all turned to look at me.

"It's like what you said earlier, Dragon," I continued. "The truth _will_ get out. Why not make it on my terms?"

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Five, Part II: Birthright**_


	16. Interlude - Reveal

"Door."

Once again, he found himself staring down the long alabaster hallway. Sighing, he stepped across, then continued down to the meeting room.

The Doctor was there, as per usual, along with Contessa and the Number Man. When he glanced at the other side of the table, however, he saw that only Hero was present.

"One of those meetings." It was more of a statement, than anything else.

The Doctor nodded. "You already know why we're meeting, today."

Eidolon sat down beside Hero. "What happened in Providence, you mean. Frankly, I'm still having a bit of trouble believing it myself. After so many years of trying to even _hurt_ the damn thing..."

"We've had our surprises before. Terrible ones, mainly, but I feel this is one of the good ones. Maybe even the best we've had."

"I can see why," Hero piped up. "I'd be glad just to have somebody of that power, but she seems like just the right person to have it. Legend was talking my ear off about how he felt she was a model hero for people to look up to, and that was before what happened."

"Speaking of power," Eidolon said. "Legend mentioned that this Superwoman was able to discern something about the Endbringers. A core that's the real body, with successively denser layers of tissue around it. If that's the truth, then how much power can she actually produce?"

"A ballpark estimate of four hundred and sixty eight point seven nine eight teratons of TNT," the Number Man said, not even bothering to look up from his laptop. "Variation of point three percent. If you want that visualized, imagine something more than three and a half times more powerful than the impact that wiped out the dinosaurs."

Hero blinked. "That explains why we've never killed an Endbringer before. I don't think there's a cape alive who could produce a hundredth of that power."

Eidolon shifted at that, but said nothing.

"We're dealing with someone who puts everyone, maybe even every _thing_ , on this planet to shame," the Doctor said, her voice low. "Someone who can survive the vacuum unaided, produce energy blasts capable of wounding Endbringers, and sheer physical stats that go completely off the scale."

"Fast to catch Leviathan _underwater_ ," Hero added. "Remember when we used to call that impossible, just as easily as we said the sky was blue?"

The Doctor nodded. "Coupled with an apparent high-level Thinker power, and we have easily the most powerful parahuman on the planet. The sheer _magnitude_ of her abilities cannot be overstated. I'm overjoyed at the destruction of Leviathan, but I'm more than a little nervous, as well."

"You mean if she gets mastered," Eidolon said. "Or if she simply cracks. Or if the Simurgh manages to play with her head."

"Precisely."

"Well, Flechette managed to hurt her," Hero offered. "An arbalest bolt went right through her stomach, though she was able to pull it out. That's at least _one_ counter we could use."

"We need to keep note of that." The Doctor sighed, then folded her hands. "Of course, there's the aftermath less related to her. Many Thinkers estimate that human civilization would collapse within thirty years of now, due to continual Endbringer attacks, but Leviathan was a major contributing factor. Behemoth kills the mightiest of us, and the Simurgh turns our hopes against us, but Leviathan was the one that shattered coastlines and sunk islands."

"I wouldn't be surprised if Superwoman singlehandedly delayed the end of the world by another thirty years," Eidolon said.

"Or sped it up, for all we know. Nonetheless, I am cautiously optimistic. If she can do the same to the other Endbringers, then we may be able to make considerable alterations to our scenarios. The rest of the aftermath is negligible in comparison to that. She's changed everything."

"I'm still curious as to _how_ she became like that," Hero said. "We haven't lost any vials in months, but at the same time, it should be decades before we got anyone with even a fraction of her power."

The Number Man's eyebrow raised a millimeter, and he suddenly turned the computer as to let everyone see.

"I think this may answer some things."

With a click, he played the video.

Eidolon leaned forward, eyes fixed on the screen. The White House was clearly visible, and it appeared that a podium had been set up on the lawn. The President was there, along with other gathered politicians. Hell, even the UN Secretary General was there.

A large crowd of journalists had assembled behind a line of Secret Service agents, and Eidolon found himself wondering if there was going to be a press release on what happened in Providence.

He received his answer when Superwoman descended from the sky, gently landing beside the President. She had repaired her uniform, and already her injuries from the fight had healed. The crowd began to grow anxious upon seeing her, and it was only by virtue of the Secret Service that they did not rush the podium. A few cheers erupted, then fell silent.

Superwoman went to test a microphone, then simply decided to raise her voice. When she spoke, her voice was loud, clear, and confident. It almost reminded Eidolon of how Legend was, when he gave speeches.

 _"Hello, everyone. I don't think any introductions are in need; I'm sure you have all heard of me by now. As you should all know, the Endbringer Leviathan was slain in Providence just two days ago by me, but that is not actually why I am here."_

A few murmurs at that, but nothing more. Superwoman surveyed the crowd with eerily blue eyes, then continued.

 _"After a great deal of introspection, as well as an incident regarding the blackhat criminal known as Saint, I have decided that I can no longer hide the truth about myself. Despite what all of you may think, I am not actually a parahuman. I myself only learned the truth a short time ago, as I was raised just like anybody else."_

She took a deep breath. _"I am not a parahuman, because I was never human to begin with. My birth name is Zara Kal-El, and I am from the planet Krypton."_

At that, the crowd went wild. Journalists rushed forward, trying to push past Secret Service agents, raising cameras and microphones up high. Superwoman glanced at the President, then cleared her throat, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Finally, the press began to calm down. Superwoman waited a few moments, then pointed at a heavyset man up front.

 _"Any questions?"_

 _"Yes, actually. I'm Arthur White from the Daily Star, Superwoman. You say that you were raised like anybody else. Does that mean you don't know your biological parents."_

 _"They're dead, Mr. White. Krypton was destroyed when its star entered the final stages of life; I was sent away before it happened. As far as I know, I'm the last of my species. The last daughter of Krypton, so to speak."_

 _"Is there anything left of your species?"_ a woman near Mr. White inquired.

 _"Yes, actually. The rocket I came in, and the cape I now wear. Using the former, I've constructed a lab for myself to use, up in the Arctic."_

 _"Does that mean you'll introduce Kryptonese technology?"_

 _"Kryptonian. And I might decide to introduce certain technologies, as time goes on."_

More journalists began to speak, but the Number Man closed the video. He turned the laptop back to himself, then gave the room a brief survey. His eyes were wide, Eidolon saw, and even Contessa had a look of surprise on her face.

The Doctor opened her mouth, as if to say something, then closed it. She repeated the act a few more times, then finally found the strength to speak.

"This... this is definitely a surprise. To say the least."

"An alien," Hero murmured, eyes wide. "How many aliens are on Earth, now? Three?"

"Depends on whether or not you count the dead," Eidolon muttered.

"It seems we'll have to revise our scenarios again," the Doctor said. "This is... we can't get ahead of ourselves. We'll discuss this at a later time, when we have more information and less speculation."

With that, she briskly rose to her feet, then walked out on shaky legs. Eidolon rose from his seat as well, pausing to glance at Hero, then left.

Chances were, Chief Director David Smith was going to be needed very soon.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Welcome to the Parahumans Online message boards.**  
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 **Topic: Superwoman is an Alien: Discussion Thread**  
 **In: Boards ► World News ► Main**  
 **Bagrat** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted On Oct 4th 2010:  
Since the main reaction thread has, well, exploded, I've decided to make a separate thread for discussion, not just 'OMFG SUPERWOMAN ET'. I know you're all freaking out a little (I know I am), but that doesn't mean we can't discuss this calmly.

The facts so far:

• Superwoman is from a planet called Krypton. (Yes, everyone's spelling it like the element)

• As such, her species are (were) called Kryptonians.

• Somehow, Kryptonians look exactly like humans. This is probably the hardest to swallow.

• Superwoman's Kryptonian name (apparently she only learned it herself a while back; she was raised human) is Zara Kal-El.

• According to Superwoman, she is the last of her species. Bummer.

• Krypton apparently had advanced technology. Like, holy shit. Makes us look like monkeys with sticks. She's already made a gigantic base for herself in the Arctic, though we don't know what's going to happen with it.

 **(Showing page 36 of 37)**

► **Answer Key**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Well... I have questions. A lot of questions.

► **MS-21H 'Hawke'**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
I think we all do, really. I mean, why does she look human? And not just a little human, either. She looks exactly like a teenaged girl. How the fuck does that fit into our knowledge, however limited it may be, of astrobiology?

► **Cheezuz_TheGodOfCheese**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
What has me really confused is her sheer power. At least when we still thought she was a parahuman (which was just a few hours ago), we could explain it as her being an unusually strong example, kinda like Scion. But now, I have no idea as to how she could get so tough as just a fucking fact of her biology.

► **Antigone**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Everyone here is asking questions about her biology, but can't we take a step back and realize that, for the very first time, we know that we're not alone in the universe. No-one's for sure about the Endbringers and Green Dragon, or even Scion. We have definitive proof that there are other intelligences in the universe.

To be frank, it's really exciting.

► **esseresse**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Antigone: Yeah, it's really cool to think about. I think, once the initial shock wears off, people are going to be thinking really hard about what you said. I mean, hot damn. We're not alone.

► **Bailey Matutine**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Know what question I have? Why is she the last of her species? If Krypton was so advanced, they should have been able to evacuate to other solar systems.

► **GBscientist** (Veteran Member) (Wiki Warrior)  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Maybe Superwoman doesn't know, either. She seems to have only learned the truth about herself a short time ago.

► **Nidhoeggr**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
That actually makes sense. I'm trying to imagine it the other way, right? If I learned that I was a human, instead of Kryptonian or Vulcan or Trafalmadorian or whatever, I wouldn't know everything, either. I might know that Christianity existed, but maybe I wouldn't learn about the Crusades until some serious studying.

► **MasterXellos**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Nidhoeggr: Know what? Now I'm hoping we get to learn about Krypton ourselves. Like, she posts the history online, or writes books for us. I'd love to see what kind of religions and cultures they had. The music, the literature, the movies (if they have them)...

► **Chaosfaith**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Stop, you're making me salivate. And I guess we finally know about that squiggly 's' on her chest: it's an _Kryptonian_ symbol for hope.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 34, 35, 36**

 **(Showing page 37 of 37)**

► **Bagrat** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
According to this **link** , she's thinking about posting Kryptonian history and culture online, but the technology debate is still raging.

► **Harry Kiri**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Makes sense. Going with that analogy Nidhoeggr made: If I grew up in an alien culture where the bow and arrow was considered the most powerful weapon, I wouldn't want to accidentally give them gunpowder.

► **ArchmageEin**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Doesn't sound difficult, really. Why not pick and choose what to give us?

► **Coyote-C**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
Actually, it sounds pretty difficult.

Chances are, Krypton probably had fusion. Hell, they probably had something better. Now, Superwoman might think 'hey, this is a good power source; I should give it to humanity and solve a bunch of problems'. But chances are, someone, somewhere, would weaponize it. Even without tinkers, it would've still been risky. Now? No fucking chance.

► **SpiralAK** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
A shame, really. Hopefully she can still do something, though.

► **DesertChocolate**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
You know, this raises some questions about the Drake Equation, and I'm wondering if this debunks the Rare Earth Hypothesis. We don't know how distant Krypton is, but they had to know about us, right? Unless they had FTL observation (not impossible, but hey), they have to be within a hundred light-years or so. If that's the case, then life in the universe may be way more common than we think.

► **cedeelbe**  
Replied On Oct 4th 2010:  
For now, I'm just going to sit back and wait to see what she does next.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 35, 36, 37**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Krouse never liked meetings, especially since Boston.

At least there, he was in his costume. It made him feel more secure, knowing that he could display his powers without fear of exposure, and the mask offered a certain air of character. Here, however, the benefactor that called him explicitly mentioned civilian clothing only. Instead of Trickster, he was Francis Krouse, and it made him uncomfortable. Revealing his identity would be bad enough, but it would complicate any possible confrontations.

If it weren't for the offers he'd been made, and the fact of a certain man vouching for it...

The receptionist already buzzed him in, and he strolled inside. The office was a fairly nondescript one, as far as they went. A wooden desk, likely carved from mahogany, with a few stacks of papers and binders neatly arranged on top. There was a set of matching chairs as well, but no other furniture. Everything was pristine, and the window overlooking the bay was so clear as to be virtually nonexistent.

A man was standing at the window, hands neatly clasped behind him as he admired the view. Krouse couldn't really understand why; the city was an ugly rust-belt, situated in cold and wet New Hampshire. Was he gazing, so much as _studying_?

After a moment's pause, Krouse made a small noise in his throat, hoping he'd be noticed.

The man turned around. He was dressed in the latest style of suit, harkening back to the 1950's. On his frame, however, it made him seem more like the old power-players from later times, back before the coming of parahumans. He was slender, but Krouse could see a considerable deal of muscle under the suit; it was clear that the man cared for his health.

"Mr. Krouse," he said, walking around the desk. "It's good to see you've agreed to a meeting."

The man offered his hand, and Krouse took it. Strong grip, and there was something about it that reminded the younger man of a politician.

"Couldn't just turn down an offer like that without a meeting, Mr-" Krouse trailed off.

"Calvert. Thomas Calvert. Please, sit."

Krouse did as told. Calvert sat down as well, clasping his hands in front of him. There was something almost predatory in the man's gaze, like a tiger on the prowl, and Krouse had to resist the urge to avert his eyes.

"So," Calvert began. "You wish to work for Fortress Construction."

"It definitely seems like a good idea," Krouse replied, following the guidelines set over the phone. "Since I moved from Providence, I've been looking for a job, and this seemed like a good place."

"Some might disagree with that statement," Calvert said, calmly. "For a number of reasons."

 _Like the fact that it's the fucking Endslayer's hometown,_ Krouse thought.

Of course, he wouldn't say that out loud. It'd been two days since he personally saw Superwoman descend from the sky with Leviathan's head in her hand, and a matter of hours since revealed she was an alien, but the global celebrations had scarcely begun to subside. Everywhere he looked, she dominated the news. Talk shows dedicated entire episodes to her, and the internet was furiously abuzz with the young cape's whereabouts.

"Regardless, I feel that Brockton Bay is the right city for you," Calvert continued. "Crime is on the sharpest decline in the entire country, which makes the waters safer to tread for businessmen like me. A city that's barely more than a war zone is a bad investment, you see."

Krouse nodded. "So, I imagine this is going to be different from other jobs."

"Of course. Fortress Construction is newer than many companies, but it's growing considerably. Brockton Bay is a prime candidate for our latest projects. It is fairly-run down; no, let me rephrase that. It is a crumbling, rotting, and absolutely _fetid_ pile of concrete and rusty steel that could collapse with a strong wind. But, with the sudden decrease in crime, it means that it can rebuild."

"And that's what you're aiming for, right? You could make a fortune by rebuilding here."

"As well as Providence, but that's a more difficult affair," Calvert replied. "Buddy is quite fond of his old associates; there's only so far greased palms can change that. Brockton Bay, however, lacks such corruption. It died when Superwoman mopped up the last remaining members of the E88."

"If you're rebuilding here, why do you need me?" Krouse inquired. "My services don't really seem needed here. In fact, it might be a liability, due to her."

"Oh, it can be _very_ useful. And there's no need to worry about her; she'll have her attentions divided across the entire world, now."

Calvert began to jot some neat notes down with a fountain pen. "You'll be changing how you operate, here in Brockton Bay. For the better, of course, and it'll better serve to improve this company's image."

"Corporate sponsoring?" Krouse asked.

"In a sense. I'll explain it more in depth at a later time."

"It doesn't sound very profitable, in comparison to our previous gigs."

"A strange thing, about a lot of these upstart parahuman crime lords: for all of their power, they usually don't possess as much money as they could easily obtain. There are exceptions, of course, but for the most part they're lucky to break a hundred million."

Calvert leaned forward before he continued. "If you agree to work for Fortress Construction, you'll receive a monthly salary of three hundred thousand dollars. Your friends will receive the same pay, and I'll also look into your friend Noelle's medical condition. If I find a treatment, that will also be a part of the deal."

"That..." Krouse scratched his chin. "That's a good deal. I'll discuss it with my friends, first."

"Naturally, though I'll want your answer within the day. You can leave, now."

Krouse nodded, then left the office.

He had to repress a leap of joy when he went down the stairs.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

For such a run-down motel, the TVs were quite nice. Of course, it could be hard to see when the screens were smeared with blood.

He stepped over a body, fiddling with a butterfly knife. For such an innocuous-looking weapon, it was definitely his favorite. Other blades just didn't feel quite right in his hands; the balances were off, or perhaps they just took too much effort to cut _just_ right.

Click. Clack.

He paused to listen to the looped announcement, just to run it over again in his mind.

An alien. Not just that, but the Endslayer herself. Earth's mightiest hero, and certainly a symbol of hope. People would look to her, _were_ looking to her, as a savior that would pull them from the muck. A protector.

That wouldn't do.

He glanced back at the rest of the group, smiling. They had seated themselves in the main lobby

"Thoughts, everyone. Don't be shy, now; we're all thinking it."

"Ooh! I've never played with an _alien_ before," a blonde child said, grinning from ear to ear, wiping the blood from her hands. "I wonder if she's just as same on the inside, too."

Beside her, a woman smiled and ruffled her hair. She was naked, save for the blood coating her black and white body. She gave a small nod, and nothing else.

"She has promise," an olive-skinned woman added, looking up from her book. "The slayer of the Leviathan herself. We cannot pass up such an opportunity."

A massive figure paused from carving intricate designs on the wall, then gave a small chime. Agreement.

The man smiled. "I knew the mention of her alien technology would get your attention. It'd certainly be interesting to see for ourselves."

" **I have to fight her**." A trio of eyes filled the doorway, while caustic saliva burned away at the tiling. " **She's mine**."

"Now, now, this is a _special_ project. We lost a few back in Charlestown, and we have to still round the numbers out. It seems we have a little investment in her, and there'll be plenty to share. Besides, I'm sure there'll be some we can pick up in that town."

Another chime.

"You wound my reputation. A dudley do-gooder like her would grate on my nerves, even if she wasn't the world's newest darling. It'll be interesting, to see how she handles a few mind games. I always like snuffing out the sparks of hope in this dreary night."

He scanned the room. "It's settled then? Good."

With that, he flicked his blade in the TV's direction.

" _I have decided_ -"

A crack formed on the screen, right where the girl's sigil was, and the TV flickered to black.


	17. Arc 6, Part I

**6.01**

Despite everything that happened over the last few days, I still found myself in school when the weekend came to an end.

Part of me _really_ didn't want to go; I knew I could be actually helping people instead of going over subject matters I could recite in a heartbeat. It didn't help that it'd be suspicious if Superwoman was inactive at the same time Taylor Hebert was at school.

On the other hand, it felt... normal. With everything that happened, it'd be easy to be swept up into the moment. Mundane tasks were almost like an anchor, a lifeline between me and everyone else; it'd prevent me from becoming detached.

When I stepped into the cafeteria that day, almost everyone had my sigil on them, in one form or another. It seemed that Dennis's fan club had exploded overnight, and decided to move up in the grand scale of things. Half the students had blue shirts with the symbol on, and I saw they finally got the look right. Buttons and pins of all kinds now adorned their backpacks, all of them the same 'S'. One girl had even painted it onto both cheeks.

It was almost ironic, really; one of the quietest girls in school was technically the most popular.

Weld was already at the lunch table when I sat down. He was jotting some things down in his notebook, head bopping to music; it took him a few moments to realize I was there.

"Hey," I said.

Weld pulled off his headphones and smiled. "What's up?"

I shrugged. "Not much. Class is boring; water is wet. Same old."

"Yeah, I can see that." Weld paused, then chuckled. "Know what? I just realized something."

"Oh?"

"That music you gave me, back before we started dating? It's Kryptonian, isn't it?"

I nodded. "Yeah. Yula Mon-El's Unification Symphony, and Rak-Ul's First Expansion Yearning. Apparently they're more than a hundred thousand years old."

"It'd be interesting to hear what other music that rocket of yours has to offer. Dragon still holed up in the base you made?"

"Yep. Armsmaster's back, though. I can hear his heartbeat from here."

"I also wanted to ask you about that," Weld said.

"About what I can see and hear?"

A nod.

"To put it short: everything," I said. "The entire spectrum. I can hear mosquitoes scratching themselves in Phnom Penh, or see x-rays dancing across the magnetic field. I can even sense things I shouldn't be able to. Electrons are too small for light to properly reflect off of it, but I can see them right now, spinning in their orbits."

"How does that even _work_?"

"I don't know," I replied. "Why do you think I'm letting Dragon and Armsmaster work in the base? If they can break the restrictions Kal-El put, maybe I'll finally get my questions answered."

"You're lucky there," Weld said. "You have a chance of learning why you're the way you are."

I leaned forward and put a hand on his arm. He smiled at me, but I could tell there was something else behind his eyes.

"I'm so sorry-" I began.

"I came to grips with it a long time ago," he said. "I don't know who I was, but I don't let that define who I _am_. Still... I ask myself 'why'. Why am I like this? Why are the other Case 53s like this?"

"Maybe we _will_ get that answer for you."

"You honestly think so?" Weld asked.

I smiled. "You said it yourself. I can do anything."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Finally, the bell rang, and school was out.

Weld and I walked out together, chatting about music, when his phone rang. We stopped, and he sighed,

"Hold up." Weld answered the call. "Reporting. Alright. Yes, ma'am."

"Patrol?" I asked.

"Yup," he replied, shoving the phone back in his pockets. "I'll be done by seven. See you then?"

I smiled. "See you then."

He smiled, then gave me a small kiss before jogging away. There was already a PRT car waiting for him, and it sped off as soon as he was inside.

I sighed, then began the walk home. Patrol sounded like a good idea for me as well; it'd be a few hours before Dad came home. The city was pretty clean, as far as criminal elements went, but there were always other situations that'd need my help. And there was always other cities; I could start to spread my range substantially, handling emergencies wherever I was needed.

Before I really start on that, however, there were a few things I needed to do.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Well, color me surprised," Jones said when he opened the door. "I thought you might stay discreet for a while after making that big an announcement. Not every day you tell the world you're actually the last daughter of another world."

"Doesn't seem like me to take a break," I replied, stepping inside. "Besides, I needed to ask you some questions."

"Alright then." Jones went back to his desk and sat down, hands folded. "So, what can I do for you?"

I pulled a handful of photos out of my sweatshirt pocket and handed them over. Jones flipped through them, brow furrowed.

"Apparently, some blackhat hacker named Saint tried to scout out my house, probably to see if they could steal Kryptonian technology."

"He found you out?" Jones asked. "I knew he was a thorn in Dragon's side, but that's stretching some things. How could've he found out your identity, or even who you were?"

"That's beside the point," I replied. "It doesn't matter anymore."

"Someone took him out before he even got close, then." Jones frowned. "Am I right in assuming that?"

I nodded. "Someone, or some _thing_ , took him down. Smashed his suits, then actually wiped parts of his memory, along with the other Dragonslayers."

Jones blinked at that. "I think some clarification is in order; that might narrow some things down."

"It was definitely surgical," I replied. "Saint didn't suffer any brain damage or anything like that, but he can't remember certain things. Codes he used, why he was there, the truth about me. It was some very fine-tuned memory play."

"Huh." Jones looked down at the pictures. "I could name several capes off the top of my head who could explain the claw marks, but most of them aren't even in New England. Those who do, lack the power to take down three people in high-tech power armor, and there's the whole matter of the memory wipe. I don't think there's any cape, or even any _team_ , that fits all those descriptors."

I frowned. "You're actually stumped on this? I'm more than a little surprised."

"Who said I was stumped? I'll just need to investigate the matter further. Don't worry; I'll get to the bottom of this, Taylor."

Jones glanced at the photos again, then continued. "Now, I think we have a bit more to talk about."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, there's the matter of the new thinker in town," he replied. "I might have a possible lead."

"You do?"

"Ever hear of Fortress Construction? It's a company that covers a lot of infrastructure manufacturing, though their specialty is in the construction of Endbringer shelters. It's a new company, but it's growing fast. Suspiciously so. The CEO just moved the center of operations here, in Brockton Bay."

"How come I didn't hear about this?"

Jones chuckled. "In case you haven't noticed, the _single_ biggest event in human history just happened yesterday. The news has been doing nothing but covering _you_. With a single sentence, you changed the entire world's way of looking at itself and its place in the universe. Knowing we're not alone? Nothing will be the same, Taylor."

He had a point. Things that'd be considered big news would probably be swallowed up the media frenzy I caused. Why talk about a bank robbery, when you could be discussing the alien hero, who killed an Endbringer? Tracking where she went, what she did, who she helped?

How did Jones see me, now? He seemed to have no reaction to it, really; there was virtually no change in his body language. He wasn't nervous, nor did he seem to hold me in a different regard from before. Was he just that used to me? Or was there something else at play?

Sighing, I rose from my seat. "Thank you, John. Please tell me if you get any headway into that Fortress investigation of yours."

"I will. And remember our little agreement, okay? If I get in hot water, it'd be nice to have you bail me out."

I chuckled. "No problem."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It seemed that people had already taken note of the base I made in the Arctic. An army helicopter was circling nearby, though it gave the crystalline pyramid a wide berth, and I could see a Russian submarine prowling beneath the ice, more than five miles out. They were assailing it with every probing device they had; I could hear their sonar pings and see their radar measurements.

I paid them no heed as I flew to one of a hundred entrances, close to the apex. The door swung open for me, almost completely silent, and it shut behind me when I stepped inside. The hallway was broad enough for a dozen people to walk side by side, but I was the only one to stride down it, my footsteps echoing strangely through the crystal of the walls.

Dragon was in one of the larger rooms; she had brought an entire laboratory's worth of her equipment inside, where she could examine the technology in detail. After the base was constructed, the silver spacecraft had returned to its original shape, and it she was focusing some kind of microscope on it when I walked in on her.

"Afternoon, Superwoman," she said.

"Afternoon," I replied. "Any progress?"

Dragon sighed. "Sadly, no. Brute forcing it just won't work; I'll need to think of something else if I want to crack those restrictions your father put in."

"Well, at least there's plenty of technology to still work with," I offered. "Even some of the older tech in the repository is centuries ahead of anything we've made."

"Yes, but what are we going to do with it?" Dragon asked. "There's a lot of good that can come from that little rocket, but there's also a lot of danger. There are no weapons listed, but it isn't a stretch to imagine a lot of tools and power sources becoming weaponized."

"I think you're over-exaggerating things a little. Think of all the things we can _do_ to help the world, Dragon. The diseases we can cure, the power sources we can invent. I think we can trust the world with at least some technology; don't you?"

"You sure?" Dragon asked. "Of all the tinkers that have emerged, how many of them have actually used their inventions to _better_ society?"

"I'm looking at one right now."

Dragon fell silent for a few moments, then spoke again. "I suppose it's not the most apt analogy, considering the strange limits tinkers have. Some of the less advanced tech should be able to be reverse-engineered, but only tinkers with specialties for mass-production can do that."

"You ever wonder why is that?" I asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I wonder if that rocket of yours has the answer."

"What makes you think so?"

"There is _one_ link I can make between parahumans and your own abilities: there's no way your body should be able to produce that much energy. How do thinkers have the computational space to see the future? Where do shapeshifters get their mass from? That same question can be applied to you. Even if your body was converted into antimatter, you shouldn't be able to produce enough energy to crack a moon in half."

"I've asked myself about that, too. Do you think we'll actually get the answer, though?"

"Maybe," Dragon replied. "It all depends on whether or not I can breach the restrictions."

Another pause. For a moment, it looked as though she was going to say something else, but changed her mind.

"I'll leave you to it," I said. "I'll be back in a few hours; we can continue talking about what to do with the tech then."

"Where are you going?" Dragon asked.

"Out. There's tons of people out there who need my help, and I'm going to give it to them."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **6.02**

The world is a vast place. Even with gang conflicts that left triple-digit body counts in cities like LA or New York, or the outright _wars_ between countries that had militarized parahumans, the human race still found ways to flourish and grow. The Endbringers could kill millions at a time and destabilize nations, but for every person they killed, there was a thousand more.

There was no way I could handle _every_ single emergency that befell a world with five billion people in it, but that wasn't going to stop me from trying.

The big disasters were easier to find. An earthquake had hit Turkey a few hours ago; I spent a while helping people out of the rubble, and clearing pathways for recovery crews to come in. The people seemed happy to see me, and the fact that I could speak the language helped. The local authorities and parahumans didn't interact with me very much; they had a lot on their hands with recovery.

Once I was sure they had the situation under control, I moved on, handling emergencies as I flew around the world in circles. Brush fires in the Sub-Sahara; monsoon flooding in India; a chemical explosion in Vladivostok. I took down a gang in Japan, who simply surrendered upon seeing me, then flew over to California in a heartbeat to stop a little girl from stepping out into traffic. The smaller problems were quicker to solve, and I peppered my flight with countless little stops as I went to the bigger emergencies.

Reactions varied, depending on where I went.

In some places, the people cheered when they saw me, especially in the more developed countries. They'd pull out their phones to take pictures, and they'd wave, or maybe try to call attention to themselves.

In less developed nations, especially the ones that had been destabilized by the Endbringers, however...

That was where it was most varied. When I froze a flood that threatened to wash away a village in the CUI, the people were wary when the saw me. It wasn't quite _fear,_ exactly, but they were hesitant to do anything in my presence. Considering how their country handled parahumans, it wasn't unjustified. I could understand that, and it'd hopefully fade over time.

What really scared me was when the opposite happened.

Sometimes, they didn't look at me with just awe, or even with hope; they were _reverent_. They'd whisper prayers when they saw me, or call me names in their languages. Sacred names, meant for deities or other beings of higher power. To them, I wasn't a hero; I was something _more._

The most memorable incident was when I saved a family from a collapsing building in Jakarta. Once I landed and dropped them off, the bystanders actually reached out to touch me, pressing against each other in hopes of laying a hand or even a finger on wherever they could.

" _Pembunuh,_ " they started to say. " _Pembunuh setan._ "

Demon slayer.

That? That was more unsettling then anything else they could've done.

I flew away quickly after that, and soon found myself skirting the edge of the atmosphere. I took a deep breath, then slowed down, until I was floating motionless above the Earth. I needed a few moments to myself, to think. I couldn't rush into everything like that, otherwise I'd go nuts in a week.

Rising upward, I soon left the world behind me. The first time I flew into space, it was to fight Leviathan; there had been no time to relax, or enjoy the view. Now, however, I could leisurely float in the void, letting the warm light of the sun wash over me. It was a strange sensation, not having any air in my lungs, and I could feel a slight tension beneath my fingernails. For some reason, the water over my eyes didn't freeze. Another effect of my powers, I supposed.

Earth shrank beneath me, rapidly going from an entire world to something I could cover with my thumb. The Moon was finally exerting its pull on me, and I let it. I felt as though I was floating in a creek, letting the current take me wherever. If I focused enough, I could actually see the gravity waves as I drifted towards the surface. Another facet of myself I didn't understand.

I slowed before actually hitting the surface, then gently touched my feet on the silver regolith. For a few moments, I simply stood there, letting the impact of the moment hit me. Until a few days ago, I never thought I'd ever stand on the Moon. I remembered I was thinking about it, right before I flew for the first time, but it was a distant thought at the time, a dream.

Now?

I knelt down, delicately running a finger over the dust. Neil Armstrong had been the first to step foot on the surface, but I was the first to actually _touch_ it, to feel it. How many others could do this? There were some who could survive the vacuum, but could anyone make the flight, or stay still long enough to do what I did?

To think of it, the entire solar system was open to me. I could visit the rings of Saturn, or take a swim in the oceans of metallic hydrogen that churned beneath the clouds of Jupiter. The frozen clouds of Neptune sounded like a good place to visit, and I could stop at Mars on the way back.

But would I actually do it?

There was a large rock nearby, and I sat down next to it, leaning back. Earth hung overhead, a bright blue marble occluded by swirls of cloud. For some reason, I could still hear _everything_ going on, clear as day. It should've been impossible, but so was everything else about me.

I couldn't stay for long. There was so much I could do, and I couldn't forgive myself if I just sat around while people were in danger.

Just as I rose to my feet, one of those situations occurred. Shouting in Afrikaans reached my ears, both commands and confused remarks. Focusing, I peered at the source of the commotion, and found myself looking at a village in Namibia. Men in uniforms were forcing people out of their homes, pointing rifles at them and barking orders. Men, women, and children were forced to march to what qualified as the town square.

In the center of it stood a women in tattered clothing, with a cloud of black fog coiled around her. It writhed around her, almost protective, and I saw that it had the skull of a crocodile where its head should've been. Moord Nag, the self-appointed warlord of the country.

I didn't know that much about her, especially compared to local capes, but the few scraps of info were all unpleasant. She was the longest-reigning warlord in Africa, with seven years as the ruler; most were lucky to break six months. Her power apparently involved death, though I didn't quite know how, and she was infamous for her brutality. Her _personal_ death toll likely ran into the thousands, and that didn't include her men's crackdowns.

For the briefest moment, indecision gripped me. What would be the international community's reaction to my interference? It was one thing to stop an earthquake, it was another to topple a ruler, no matter how cruel. Would people start to live in fear, wondering if their own home was next on the list?

Then, I heard the cocking of a gun, and I thought, _To hell with it._

It took them a moment to register my landing; I'd dropped down on them from right above, a sonic boom rippling in my wake. Before any of the men could turn to face me, or even _blink_ , they were down for the count. I tossed away their guns in one twisted pile of metal, then grabbed the villagers, moving them to safety. All in all, it took only two seconds before Moord Nag found herself alone in the village square.

That didn't last for long. I landed ten feet away from her, fists on my hips. Moord Nag's eyes widened in surprise, but only for a moment before her face hardened. She backed away from me, her living shadow poised to strike.

"The Seekeoi-Killer herself has come," Moord Nag said. Her voice was soft and nasal, ill-fitting for a warlord. "You have the audacity to come here, I see."

Audacity? She killed thousands of people, and she thought _I_ was being audacious?

"You were going to kill those people," I spat, trying to control the growing heat behind my eyes. "I don't let nationality stop me from saving lives."

"Saving lives?" Moord Nag let out a harsh laugh. "People die every day. Infants perish in the womb. Women are raped and gutted like fish, and nightmares tear open men to feast on them. And yet you stand here, and single me out? I am the ruler of this country; the people are my flock, mine to slaughter or feed when I choose. Without me, there would be another shepherd, one who may not be as forgiving."

Her shadow pet slithered closer. A lion's skull had taken the place of the crocodile, and its jaws were wide.

"Tell me, demon in a girl's skin. Are you-"

I didn't let her finish. In the blink of an eye, my hand was tightly wrapped around her throat. Moord Nag made a small choking sound, then commanded her shadow pet to attack. Claws scraped over me, but they failed to cut, to find purchase. The lion's skull clamped its jaws over my head, only for its teeth to shatter against my skin.

Shoving Moord Nag out of the way, I finally let the heat out. A cone of red light blasted from my eyes, engulfing the familiar entirely. I only put a fraction of the normal power in, otherwise a good chunk of the continent would've burned away, but it still only took a few seconds for the shadow to fade.

Cutting the beam off, I turned back to Moord Nag. She backed away from me, eyes wide, and I could hear the pounding of her heart as fear settled in. Rushing forward, I grabbed her by the throat again, and hoisted her up. Moord Nag let out a weak gurgle, but I could tell she still had a clear airway.

"This ends now!" I hissed, bringing her close. "No more killing! They are not sheep for you to slaughter, Moord Nag. They're human beings, and I'm going to ensure that they're treated as such."

"Kill me then," Moord Nag rasped. "You can be their shepherd, and see how long it begins before you slaughter them, too."

"I'm not going to kill you," I replied. "You'd be dead already if that was the case. I'm bringing you in, and I'll let the people of your country govern themselves instead of you. And if someone else tries to move in? Well, they'll end up like you: imprisoned."

I pulled back a fist.

"Might doesn't make right, Moord Nag."

Then, with that, I knocked her out with a clean strike to the temple.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

All in all, it only took two minutes to defeat Moord Nag. Helping democratic dissidents establish an interim government took two hours. Loyalists proved to be far and few between; most had only served for fear of becoming the shadow monster's next morsel. With control within the hands of the people, it finally looked like things were going to improve for Namibia.

Naturally, there was quite a buzz at that. People began to ask where the line should be drawn, and it was something I considered myself, flying back to the Arctic base. Where _should_ the line be drawn? No-one would mourn the dictatorship of Moord Nag, but what about other countries?

Something told me it was a question could be only answered when the occasion came, where I decided 'enough'.

Yet, my own words echoed in the back of my mind. Might isn't right, but I had used might to help the people. Was there a distinction between might _is_ right, and might _for_ right?

I couldn't think of an answer.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **6.03**

The nights were getting colder, that much I knew. Even if I couldn't feel anything more than a soft chill, I could still see the slight dimming in the surroundings, as the ultraviolet and infrared began to wane in face of winter. People were beginning to wear heavier clothing, and I didn't need heightened senses to see their breath. It'd start snowing, soon; Brockton Bay was known for its winters.

Of course, it didn't stop people from going out. Halloween was coming up soon, and already ads were being splayed everywhere for costumes and decorations. Horror movies were in at the theaters again, including some old classics.

Which was why I was waiting outside one with Weld. Emma had agreed to a double date, though she didn't tell me who she was bringing along. I could've just figured it out with a glance, but I felt like having a surprise.

"You know, I've never actually seen Frankenstein," Weld murmured, looking at the poster on the theater wall.

I glanced at him. "Really? It's a pretty famous classic."

Weld shrugged, making a small creaking sound. "I mean, I _know_ about it, and I read the book, but I never sat down to watch it."

"Well, I think you'll like it," I said. "Fair warning, though- it's very different from the book."

"I think I have an idea. Everyone talks about some hunchback named Igor, but there wasn't anything like that in the novel."

"It was Fritz in the movie, actually, though the name stuck." I sidled up closer to him. "Where did you first learn about that, anyway?"

"Some of the officers back in Boston called my friend Hunch that."

I blinked, then took his hand. "I'm so-"

Weld sighed. "No, I should be sorry about that. Just... even while reading the book, I found myself sympathizing for the monster, you know? Born innocent, but cast out by society... I know I was luckier than most."

I put a hand on his shoulder. "I can't understand how you must feel about it, Weld."

"I put it out of mind. It's... there's no point in thinking about how I could've turned out. Sure some people look at me funny, but I've been accepted in a way. Mr. Armstrong took me in like a son, and I've had friends."

He grabbed my hand, and smiled. "I have you."

I gave him a kiss, then leaned my head against his shoulder. For a few minutes, we just stood there, waiting. The sidewalk was empty, since all the other theater-goers were inside to take solace from the cold. If I shut out the sound of their talking, or the blooms of their body heat, I could almost imagine it was just Weld and I there, alone but together.

"You know, Frankenstein's Monster gave himself a name," I said. "Shelley said in a letter that he called himself Adam. Have you ever thought of giving yourself a name, instead of what the PRT gave you?"

He shrugged. "I actually kind of like Weld as a name. It's the first name I ever heard for myself, even if it's... unique. I mean, Taylor's not the first name you were given, but that's what you call yourself. It's who you _are_. If I started calling myself John or Henry, it wouldn't feel right. It wouldn't be _me_ , you know?"

"Makes sense," I replied.

A pair of heartbeats coming around the corner drew my attention. I turned to look, with Weld following a half-second later. Sure enough, Emma was jogging towards us, a large grin on her face. Next to her was-

No. No no no.

"Weld!" Dennis exclaimed. "Sup, bud!"

"So this is hell," Weld murmured.

Dennis clamped a hand on Weld's shoulder. "So, I guess you and Taylor are more than I thought, huh?"

"I mean, yeah-"

"You sly dog." Dennis chuckled, then turned to me. "So, what's it like dating him? The braces must make it awkward, but-"

"Dennis," Emma interrupted, grabbing his arm hard enough to draw a wince. "I think we should be more polite, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. So, who's up for the movie?"

"I've been freezing out here, waiting for you two," I said. "Heading inside sounds nice."

I spearheaded the way in, with Weld following after me. I held the door open for everyone to come in, then we purchased our tickets. Dennis bought himself a jumbo bucket of popcorn, along with an equally giant soda. I honestly didn't know how he stayed alive, let alone thin.

It was empty when we walked into the screening room, so we had our pick of seats. Judging by what I heard in the other rooms, Godzilla and King Kong were far more popular than I thought.

"You know, did anyone read the news today?" Dennis asked, plopping down in his seat.

"Been pretty busy," Weld replied. "Not to mention, it's the same stuff being looped on the news ever since Leviathan was killed."

"There's some new stuff going on, still." Dennis's face was alarmingly excited. "Apparently Superwoman defeated some warlord in Namibia and helped some dissidents set up a democracy."

"Huh," Weld said. "I wonder _why_ I didn't know that."

"You literally just said that you haven't been reading the news." Dennis's frown quickly faded, and he continued his animated -and one sided- discussion. "I think it's pretty awesome. Apparently some politicians shat their pants about the whole thing. Guess they're scared she'll go after them, too."

A creaking sound reached my ears, and I realized I'd gripped the armrests a bit too hard.

"I think you're being a bit, uh, hyper," Emma said, sparing me a pitied glance. "I think she's just trying to help people, you know?"

"That's why I'm reading all the news about her," Dennis said. "I mean, we share the hometown with not only the greatest hero _ever_ , but a space alien from outer space. How cool is that? I've probably seen her before, at some park or on the street, and I wouldn't even know it."

"Well, what do you know," Weld said, a bit louder than necessary. "Movie's starting."

Dennis looked as though he was going to protest, then he settled back down in his seat. I let out a breath I didn't even know I had, then leaned back to enjoy the movie.

As it turned out, however, that was easier said than done.

Even normal people need to focus their senses, subconsciously or consciously. Otherwise, they'd never be able to do _anything_ , with the constant rush of colors and sounds distracting them. At the same time, however, they can still sense what they block out; they just ignore it.

Now, imagine trying to focus, but when you can hear an ant's footsteps in Australia.

I had a good handle on it, but there was still occasional _somethings_. Whispers, almost. A single _clink_ in Indochina, or a person drawing in a breath while jogging in Germany. That day, I heard more than normal. Cries, for help or just of pain.

In retrospect, it was to be expected; I had just done my first global patrol, and I was still somewhat focusing in on those sounds. But it was unbearable, at that moment.

By the time the titular scientist was creating his monster on the screen, I rose from my seat and hopped over the rail.

"Taylor?" Emma called.

"Gotta go," I replied hurriedly, absentmindedly.

I pushed the door open to leave the theater, nearly tearing it off its hinges. Pulling my glasses off, I kept them in hand as I headed for the exit. I needed to leave the building without drawing attention. I was still wearing my uniform under my clothes; if I could just slip into the shadows for a moment, I could be off and away-

"Taylor."

Heavy footfalls approached from behind, and I turned to see Weld hurry over, a look of concern on his face. He put his hands on my shoulders, and pulled me in close.

"What's wrong?" he asked, his voice soft.

"It's-" I paused to take in a shuddering breath. "I can still _hear_ them, Weld. All of those people who need help, who are _dying_. I can't just... I need to help them..."

It was then I realized hot tears were pouring down my cheeks. Cries from all over the world reached my ears as my control slipped, and I lowered to the ground, trying to drown it all out.

"There are so many of them," I whispered. "Even while I was out there, I could hear so many crying for help, only to die. A kid who got hit by a car in Oslo. An old man who got pulled out by a riptide. So many... I let them down, I _failed_."

I clamped my hands over my ears. "Oh god, just make it _stop_."

There was a moment's pause, then Weld gently pulled my hands away as he knelt to look at me.

"You can't beat yourself up over this, Tay. I was like that, too, when I first started out. I don't sleep, and I don't eat; I thought I could be out there all day, everyday. I actually did that for a while. I went on patrol without a break. I stopped muggers, and robberies, and I saved people's lives."

I choked back some tears. "What happened?"

"I had a nervous breakdown a week in. You _have_ to take breaks, Tay. You have to spend some time for yourself, to read a book or hang out with your friends. You need to have a _life._ No-one can just do it around the clock, not even you."

"A-and what about the s-stuff I could stop?" I asked weakly. "I'm faster than a speeding bullet. I can lift islands and kill Endbringers. You said it yourself: I'm Superwoman, I can do anything."

"But that doesn't mean you can do _everything_ ," Weld replied. "You're not alone, Tay. You're not the only one out there, helping people."

He pressed a hand against my heart, right where the sigil was. " _This_ is what matters. You can inspire people to help others, and just be _good_. If everyone rises to the occasion, if you can get your message across.. then you've succeeded. And trust me, you're succeeding right now, Tay."

Slowly, I rose to my feet. Glancing at my hand, I saw I'd nearly twisted my glasses until they broke. Straightening them out, I slid them back on. The cries died away, until they faded into the background.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I-I shouldn't have gone out like that and ruined our date, Weld. Let's... let's head back in. I don't want to keep the others waiting."

"I understand if you just want to head home right now," Weld said. "I think Emma will understand."

I sighed. "Okay."

"Plus, I didn't want to spend another minute in the same room as Dennis."

I chuckled at that. It felt good, felt _normal_.

"Don't you think you're being a _bit_ harsh on him?" I asked, still giggling a little.

Weld smiled. "I mean, he's a pretty funny guy, but you can't have too much of him in one sitting."

I adjusted my glasses, then took his hand. "C'mon, let's head back to my place. Maybe we can finish Seven Samurai."

Before Weld could reply, my phone rang. Pulling it out of my pocket, my eyes widened when a stylized dragon's head was on the screen instead of a number or caller ID. After a moment's hesitation, I answered the call.

"Hello?"

" _Taylor? It's Dragon. There's something going on back at the base with Brainiac._ "

I gripped the phone harder. "What kind of problem?"

" _It's not exactly a problem. It says it needs to talk to you about something._ "

"I'll be right there."

I hung up, then put my phone away. Weld was frowning when I turned back to him.

"Something up?"

"Not sure," I replied, grabbing his arm. "Let's find out together."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dragon and Armsmaster were both waiting for me when I entered the room with Weld in tow. The rocket was between them, untouched since I last saw it. I breathed a sigh of relief at that; at least the problem wasn't a physical one.

"Could you explain what's going on?" I asked.

"It's hard to explain, Superwoman." Armsmaster gestured to a computer console. "We were simply doing some tests on its search engines when it suddenly requested your presence. It didn't tell us _why_ , however."

"Alright, then." I stepped closer to the rocket. "Brainiac, could you explain why you called me?"

"I require your express permission to explain in front of the others, due to the sensitive nature of the information."

Seriously? Dragon and Armsmaster had been poking and prodding at it for days, and _now_ it wanted permission?

"Brainiac, you may explain in front of them," I finally said.

"Very well," it replied. "As you now meet most of the requirements, you have unlocked several restrictions."

I blinked in surprise. Already? I thought it would've taken much longer than that, even with two of the world's greatest tinkers helping along.

"What new data do I have access to?" I asked.

"Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Physiology, Detailed Analysis of Kryptonian Ecology, Neighboring Planets to Krypton, Maps of Krypton, and Evolution of the Kryptonian Species."

"That's a lot more than I expected," Armsmaster murmured in surprise.

Would I finally receive some answers to my questions? Maybe I'd finally learn why I looked so human, or how my powers worked.

"Brainiac, could you pull up some data on Kryptonian physiology?" I asked.

"Yes. However, I must first play you this message, left to you by Kal-El of Krypton, in preparation for this moment."

"Go ahead, then." I was practically drooling at that point.

The rocket shifted as a lens of some kind formed. Then, a figure flickered into existence, scarcely five feet away from me. I knew it was only a hologram, but there was something about seeing him that made me gasp.

"Hello, Zara," Kal-El said warmly. "If you are seeing this message, then it means you are ready for what I shall tell you. But first, you must be curious as to why I am now telling you this."

He straightened. "Though Krypton has long conquered many of the vices and evils that plagued our forebears, your world has not. The urge to use your immense power for self-gain is a strong one, and I feared that you would succumb to it. Thankfully, however, you have not. The requirements for unlocking this information was not age, but the content of your character."

Well, that actually made sense, though I hadn't looked at it that way. If I'd just used my powers for selfish reasons... I didn't want to think about it.

"Brainiac has been analyzing the world's data networks, in order to measure your actions," Kal-El continued. "You have reached a level of power that dwarfs all others, yet you only use it to help others. You were willing to put your life on the line for the people of this world, and you wish to help them strive for the future. Therefore, I feel that you are ready for this revelation about your ancestry."

A globe flickered into being to his side. It was completely featureless at first, but soon details began to fill in.

"I was not completely honest when I told you of your origins. Though I did not lie, I omitted an important piece of the puzzle: you are of Krypton, Zara, but you are not an alien to this world."

The globe finally filled in, and my breath caught in my throat. I recognized it; there was no mistaking the world before my eyes for anything else. The others saw it, too; I could sense their surprise, their shock, their _awe_ as the implication hit them.

"My people called this world Krypton," Kal-El said. " _Your_ people, however, call it Earth."

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Six: Up, Up, and Away_**


	18. Interlude - K

'Human' is a loose term, one whose definition has been argued upon for a long time. What does it mean to be human? When did humanity first originate?

Some with a weak scientific inclination might argue that 'human' means ' _Homo sapiens_ '. The Thinking Man, that arose in the valleys and savannas of Africa two hundred millennia ago to spread across the globe. But others would argue against it. After all, there were other species of the same genus that shared the globe, and one could argue that they were just as intelligent as _Homo sapiens_ , even if they did not share that species' luck.

Those might also argue that humanity is decided by its mind, its soul, and not its DNA. There were archaic species, such as the Neanderthal Man, that had their own religions, and even the beginnings of complex culture. Their bodies were different, if only slightly, but they seemed to have that same inner fire as their younger African cousins.

The matter becomes more complex when one takes a figurative step back, so to speak, and looks at _all_ of the Earths, and not just one. When faced with a quintillion trillion worlds, humanity becomes a theme, and a theme has variations. A near-infinite universe can form from such a picture, and with it comes near-infinite possibilities.

There is one Earth, however, that is of interest.

Like countless others, humanity arose, evolving from upright apes to the dominant species on the planet. But there the similarities end. For it arose slightly earlier than most, and the conditions on its world were _just_ different enough to create a profoundly unique path for that world's variant of Man.

The hunter-gatherer stage of development is a brief period; it only lasts a handful of millennia before it gives way to agriculture. Primitive civilizations develop in Africa and parts of Asia, then spread. The first cities are built, then nations. The vast glaciers in the north wane, as they have done dozens of times before, and Europe is colonized. Wars are fought, and empires crumble as new ones are born from the ashes. Such is the way of early Man, a fact seen across all Earths.

Technology develops; slowly at first, then faster as time passes. Gunpowder is discovered, and the first mill a century later. Wars increase in savagery, until entire peoples are laid to waste. For a brief moment, two hundred thousand years ago, civilization teeters on the brink of destruction.

Then, against all odds, there is a lasting peace. The nations of the world, already in the the last stages of industrialization, unite under one banner. The peace is unsteady at first, but the wounds of war heal with time. Geared towards other things than war, civilization expands and flourishes. With passing time, the many names for the world become one.

Krypton.

At the same time most other variants of humanity are just beginning to migrate out of their birthplace, their world is completely settled. The arts and sciences burgeon without the shackles of war, and Man begins to look into itself. They see that the human form is imperfect, frail, and they wish to improve it, to make it better. The first steps would be small, and fraught with danger, but that had never stopped them before.

While they look inward, they also look outward. The first attempts to navigate the void are made, and though not all are successful, the results are promising. Man's understanding of the solar system grows, and it moves past exploration. The Moon is colonized, and habitats begin to litter the orbitals. The planets and asteroids are next, and massive engineering efforts begin to shape them, turning them from barren worlds to verdant gardens.

As time passes, Man spreads further. Nearby star systems are colonized, though the speed of light remains an obstacle. Other species are discovered, and it seems that Man may become but one of many civilizations, all united in peace.

The dream is soon shattered.

It is a chance discovery, a trillion-to-one probability. A probe exploring one such distant world comes across the death of an entire civilization, wrought by impossible-seeming creatures. Observations are made, and a horrifying conclusion is reached.

The colony worlds are evacuated, abandoned in a near-frenzy. Krypton recalls itself to its home solar system, and interstellar travel is banned, for fear of drawing _their_ attention. Yet, despite it all, there is hope that it is only a temporary measure. Obstacles have existed in the past, and they have been overcome, no matter how impossible they seemed.

An awry experiment put an end to that.

Despite their wisdom, there were forces still beyond their power. A test with an experimental engine, meant as a possible hope for Man, instead proves to be Krypton's death sentence. The sun grows swollen and red over the course of a thousand years, and the inner worlds are abandoned. Krypton itself is slowly pushed into a higher orbit, but it is only a delaying measure.

Yet, with a remaining lifespan measured in millennia, Man does not give into despair. Instead, it accomplishes wonders, despite knowing it will all be incinerated, and flourishes into something beyond the wildest dreams of its ancestors. Architectural marvels are built, poems are written, songs echo through great halls.

And all the while, Man itself changes.

There is no need to let the blind hand of evolution continue. Man shapes itself, with gene-therapies and cybernetics. The first efforts are crude, but the science of the body is an art, and art can be refined. The human form is molded and perfected, using femtotechnology and biotechnology from both ends of the spectrum. Age is done away with, and the mind is brought to its pinnacle. The body shall never wither or grow sick, and the crude physiology nature created is replaced by intelligent design.

It is the greatest of ironies, that Man would reach its zenith just as it was about to end.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"It's lovely down here in Kandor," Lara said, her youthful face beaming across the viewscreen. "It's been years since you last visited the orchestra with us."

Kal-El smiled. "It sounds nice, mother, but I'm preoccupied with some work."

"You don't have to spend the night, Kal. Jor and I are off to see Kara perform; it'd be nice to see your cousin, wouldn't it?"

"It would be, mother." She was trying hard, Rao bless her.

"The show isn't until an hour. We could catch up on old times, and maybe even pay Dru a visit on Daxam."

"I'm sure he's busy, Lara," Jor-El interjected, sparing his son a glance. "I can sympathize with a fellow scientist on that."

"Wait." Kal-El close his eyes, then sighed. "I'll go to the orchestra with you. I'll wrap up my work in a few minutes."

Lara's smile widened, yet there was something else behind her eyes. "Oh, it'll be wonderful, Kal."

"See you soon."

Kal-El turned off the viewscreen, then sighed again. He glanced at the rocket on his workshop table, innards still bare, then straightened. Zara was still asleep, and he had Keelor to keep watch for the time being.

Adjusting his robes, he headed out of the main atrium. The night sky was clear here, in his rural home, and the grass seemed to wave at him as a cool breeze rolled over. Argo was over the horizon, and he could see its artificial seas glitter even from a quarter million miles out.

Lani had loved to visit the capital. The low gravity and thick atmosphere meant one could simply fly with a pair of artificial wings. Sometimes, they'd fly to the edge of the crater rim, and watch as Rao rose...

No. He closed his eyes, banishing the thought. Six months had passed, and his heart still felt like it had been torn open. Never again would he see her violet eyes, or hear her wry remarks.

Never was a strong word, perhaps.

He wiped his eyes, then stepped onto the transfer disc. A holographic display came up, with a stylized map of the solar system. He flicked a finger over the disc of Krypton, and it broadened into a globe.

"Destination?" the disc inquired.

"Kandor. Residence of Jor-El and Lara Lor-Van."

"Acknowledged." It would be good, to get out and see his family.

After all, every time could be the last time.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The orchestra _was_ nice, he had to admit. Afterward, he and his parents spent some time walking the streets of Kandor, gazing at the glittering towers. Here, Rao was in full view, and it took up half the sky. Yet, at the same time, the light was weak enough that he could stare into its heart without fear of hurting his eyes.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jor-El asked, softly. "It's a shame it'll all be over soon."

"Mother doesn't like those discussions, you know."

"I can understand why, but she's off talking with Kara about her latest art project. I've been continuing my research for some time now, and I'm sure of my findings."

Kal-El glanced over at his father. Despite pushing two thousand, the man showed no signs of his years. In fact, he scarcely looked older than his own son. His silver hair was a cosmetic choice, much like how some changed their skin pigments or even sex.

"How much longer do we have?"

"A month, if we're lucky." Jor-El's voice was even, but there was a falter as he spoke.

"How sure are you?"

A chuckle. "I'm the greatest authority on Rao, Kal. There's no doubt that Krypton will not see its next year. I've been talking to the council with Dru about trying to do _something_. A time capsule, a probe, anything that can carry on our legacy."

As if to affirm his statement, the ground shook gently. A faint tremor, nothing more, but it was enough to send the message across. Sometimes, power would be lost when the tremors proved violent. There had even been a few deaths, the first in centuries.

"We'd talked about for so long," Jor-El murmured. "But to actually be there..."

"I know," Kal-El said, sighing. "But I may have an answer to your problem, father."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Jor-El stood over the capsule, looking down at his granddaughter sleeping within. For a few moments, he said nothing; only stared.

"What's her name?" he finally asked, his voice soft.

"Zara," Kal-El replied. "Like your grandmother. Lani gave birth to her a month before she passed."

"This is against the law, Kal. The Council of Krypton-"

"The law was set in place because there was no point in raising a child that'd never reach adulthood, or fully live life as it was meant to be. She, however, will be able to."

Kal-El gestured for his father to follow. They stepped out of the nursery, and into the main atrium. The rocket was there, silver metal gleaming in the light of Argos.

"This is the project I've been working on for so long. I've studied the Source itself ever since that fateful visit, all those years ago."

"Yes, I know that," Jor-El said. "But I didn't know you've been able to get this far. This rocket can move through the Source?"

"I'm calling it the Phantom Drive. And yes; it can. There's a limit on payload size, however; that's why the rocket's so small."

Jor-El's eyes widened. "You're putting her in it, aren't you? Sending her off, to escape Krypton's demise."

A nod. "I already have a world in mind."

"But where, Kal? Of all the different civilizations we've encountered, none of them bear even the slightest resemblance. Are you going to changer her form _that_ drastically, when we've never been able to determine the psychological risks?"

"I'm not sending her out there," Kal-El replied. "Do you remember the preliminary research I made into the Source Wall, two hundred years back? The alternate Kryptons?"

"Of course; it was key to send the visitor... Great Rao, you're sending her to the same alternate?"

Kal-El allowed himself a small smile. "It's the logical choice."

"But he might not be there anymore. For all we know, he decided to leave a hundred years back."

"True, but there's another factor at play. I've been researching the effect the older climate conditions will have on her, and I've found something... interesting."

With a wink, he activated an implant. A telemetry chart formed between him and Jor-El, and the latter's eyes widened as he read the data.

"These physicals... they shouldn't even be-"

"I know," Kal-El interrupted. "Under the light of a yellow star, such as what Rao used to be, then she could possess powers beyond our wildest dreams. By the time _they_ could ever arrive, she'd be a goddess to them."

He dismissed the chart. "I've scarcely begun to study the Photonucleic Effect myself, and I fear I won't be able to complete the research."

"But she might," Jor-El murmured. "The last child of Krypton."

"It's strange, that the last son would father the last daughter," Kal-El said, then straightened. "Will you help me with this, father? I have the rocket handled, but I need to prepare the repository of Krypton's knowledge."

There was a moment's pause. Then, Jor-El looked down at his granddaughter.

"With my last breath."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Time passed, and the tremors grew more violent. Yet, work continued unimpeded, until Jor-El announced that Krypton's last day had begun.

That morning, as Rao rose over the hills, Kal-El stood over the rocket. The Phantom Drive was installed, and all the equipment had been checked. It could cross the galaxy on a whim, or -with difficulty- travel between universes. All of reality was open, yet the target was so... close by.

His musings were interrupted by another tremor. The grass outside his home rustled violently, but the structure itself did not shake. The safety measures were working, at least for the moment.

"You have three visitors," Keelor announced.

"Enter," he replied.

The transfer disc flashed, and a trio of figures appeared. Jor-El led the forefront, a haggard look in his eyes. Dru-Zod stood to his left, scratching his beard absentmindedly, his robes fluttering in the breeze. The House of Zod's family crest was splayed over his broad chest: courage, it meant.

Kal-El smiled warmly at the family friend. "I thought you'd stay on Daxam."

"Didn't you hear? The colonies are practically empty, now; everyone's moving back to our ancestral home, as some kind of last pilgrimage. Quite poetic, really; Man shall end where it begun."

"Not truly, of course, but I can appreciate the sentiment," the figure on the right said.

It was then that Kal-El recognized the last visitor. He stood half a foot higher than the others, and his skin was a faint green. A number of red data crystals were implanted directly into his forehead, glowling softly.

"A Brainiac avatar?" Kal-El asked.

"He's willing to help us prepare the repository," Jor-El said.

Brainaic stepped forward. "I'll prepare a non-sentient program to manage the rocket, as well."

Kal-El smiled. "Very well, let us begin on the final preparations."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Zod placed a scroll in the rocket, beside Zara's sleeping form. The baby cooed, but did not wake.

"At the end of this, there is a message for you, little one," he said. "A message, from all of the houses of Krypton; may you carry it close to heart, wherever you may go."

He stepped back, then smiled at the others. "I'm heading to Kandor, now. Faora's waiting for me there, along with half of Krypton. Rao will be at its zenith when it finally passes."

"I'll be there, too," Jor-El said. "Wait for me, old friend."

Zod nodded, then stepped onto the transfer disc.

Brainaic rose to his full height, then turned to Kal-El. "It is done. I'll leave, now, to give you some privacy."

"I'm surprised you don't want to be here for the historic moment," Jor-El commented.

"There is no need. I'll be able to see it with a thousand eyes, up there in the sky."

With that, the avatar left via the transfer disc. Kal-El watched the after-image fade, then knelt over the rocket, staring into his daughter's eyes. Zara finally woke, eyes opening as she grabbed her father's finger.

"We have to hurry," Jor-El warned.

Kal-El nodded. "Goodbye, Zara. I will always be there for you, even if I can't be _with_ you, raising you. May you find happiness in your life. Fall in love, look up to the skies with wonder; all of those precious things. And remember. Remember a people that rose from a blue world to accomplish miracles, for no-one else will."

Zara began to cry. Kal-El pulled away, wiping away his own tears as the capsule sealed shut. Backing away, he watched as the rocket rose upright and took off, a pale violet light flickering about it. It rose higher and higher, until it was but a point in the sky. For something that held all of a world's hopes and dreams, it looked so small, so _frail_.

Then, with a brilliant flash, it was gone.

"To think that she'll be out there, all alone," Jor-El said.

Kal-El straightened, chest held proud.

"No. She'll _never_ be alone."

Together, they walked in silence to the transfer disc. With a single statement, they were back in Kandor. Lara stood nearby, as did Kara and Dru-Zod. Avatars of Brainiac were mingled in the crowd, chatting or simply watching the turbulent red disc above them.

"It's almost over," Lara said, rushing over to take Jor-El in her arms. "To think it'll all be finished..."

Kal-El embraced his mother, knowing it would be the last time before he could. Around him, some had begun to sing. Prayers, opera, whatever came to mind as they prepared for their final moments. To his side, Dru-Zod held Faora tight against him, eyes only on his wife's face.

Rao was almost _quaking_ , wisps of gas visibly rushing off of it as it finally turned into a planetary nebula. In a short time, Krypton would be rendered to ash, along with all of its accomplishments.

Kal-El looked skyward, then took a deep breath.

"Make a better world out there, Zara," he said.

Then he whispered, "Lani."

After that, there was only blinding light.


	19. Arc 6, Part II

**6.04**

For a few moments, I simply stared at the globe, jaw agape. Possibilities and theories swam through my head, and I struggled to put them in order.

Krypton... was Earth? And I was, despite all prior evidence, actually human? The statement seemed to make absolutely no sense, but as I thought about it, it began to come together. It certainly raised questions, but it answered many more.

"Well, that explains some things," Dragon said, finally breaking the silence.

I tore myself away from the spinning image to look at her. Armsmaster and Weld were doing the same, surprised looks on their faces as well.

Dragon glanced at them, then to me. "Remember how I destroyed your blood, back in Providence? Well, before I changed my mind, I had begun some preliminary analysis on it, and found that you had DNA."

"Which means that Krypton and Earth needed to have at least the barest common ancestry," I finished, mulling the information over. "I remember reading about it in a few books on astrobiology."

Dragon nodded. "Of course, I was expecting the result to be more like panspermia. A bacterium as a common ancestor, spread across the cosmos by comets, seeding life wherever it impacted a good world. I wasn't expecting the link to be so... _strong_."

"I think that's the understatement of the century."

"Well, at least it explains why you look human," Armsmaster said, stroking his beard. "It's because you _are_ human."

" _Posthuman_ , actually," Dragon corrected. "The result of genetic engineering, and likely other technologies we can scarcely dream of, developed over the course of millennia. At least, that's the most likely explanation. It's like that old Nietzsche quote: Man is a bridge stretched over a chasm, between the ape and what lies beyond. _You_ are what lies beyond, Superwoman."

What lay beyond. Something about how she said it, and the implications it could carry... it terrified me. If the truth, the _real_ truth, got out, then how would the world respond? The Kryptonian archives showed that humanity was not alone, but now they had to struggle with the fact that they, in time, could become like me.

"Taylor?" Weld asked, his voice soft. "Are you okay?"

"It's-" I took a deep breath, then exhaled. "It's a lot to take in, but I've done it before."

Weld put a hand on my shoulder. "I can't imagine how you're feeling right now."

I squeezed his hand and smiled. "I guess I'm not as alone as I thought, huh?"

Armsmaster took a step closer to the globe. "It still begs the question of why this information was kept from you in the first place. I can't see any reason why your birth father didn't want you to know that you're a posthuman."

"Perhaps he wanted to be sure it wouldn't get to her head," Dragon offered. "It's one thing to believe that you're an alien, but knowing that you could represent the future of humanity... it'd be easy to try and force the world into the paths you want, rationalizing it as elevating Earth to what Krypton was."

"So, the restrictions had to be a test of character, then; proof that it wouldn't influence her like that."

I looked up at the globe again. "I think it's also a choice."

Dragon glanced my way. "Come again?"

"I think Kal-El did this so he could offer me a choice," I reiterated. "I mean, the unlocked data probably now includes medicines and gene therapies and all the other methods the people of Krypton used to make themselves like me. We could reveal it to the public, and let them start along that path, or..."

"Or what?"

"We could let the world forge its own destiny. Who am I to force these ideals onto the world like that?"

Armsmaster scratched his chin. "The information in that rocket could change the world for the better, but I can see where you're getting at. Making the world dependent on a single thing like this could end badly."

"It doesn't mean we should just let this go to waste," Dragon said. "We could give pointers at the least. Small pieces of information here and there, which could allow scientists to finally make breakthroughs. They'd still be doing most of the work, but it would still allow us to put this knowledge to good use."

"I have to agree with you on that," I said. "But for now, I just to give this a _lot_ more thought. We can't just rush things, right?"

Armsmaster nodded. "That sounds good. Dragon and I'll stay here for a while longer, look over some things."

"That's alright," I replied. "In the meantime, I'm heading back home."

"Sounds good," Weld said. "Could you drop me off?"

I chuckled. "Sure thing."

Grabbing him by the shoulder, I began the flight back to Brockton Bay.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The next day, I decided to meet with John again, to see what he'd unearthed. I wasn't expecting much, considering that only a day had passed since I last spoke with him, but I had a feeling there'd be at least _something_. He was definitely a good detective; he'd figured out my identity in a similar time.

At the same time, however, there was something about him that felt... _off_. He wasn't a parahuman; a glimpse inside his skull revealed a very normal-looking brain. No, it was a number of small factors, like the evenness of his perspiration and body temperature, and the way he carried himself. In some ways, his mannerisms reminded me of myself: deliberately trying to come off as normal.

I brushed those thoughts aside for the time being as I walked up the steps to his office. I could hear another heartbeat inside with him, but a glance revealed a portly woman in her sixties. She was already getting up from her seat, and I waited until she left before stepping through the open door.

John looked up from his paperwork and smiled. "Taylor! Good to see you again. Business as usual, I presume?"

"Yep." I slid into the chair opposite him, pushing my glasses up. "Who was the lady before me?"

"Can't betray confidentiality now, can I?" Jones chuckled. "Minor case; I can handle it later this afternoon. Now, where were we?"

I leaned forward a little. "Fortress Construction."

"Ah, yes. Well, I haven't gotten anything concrete yet, just some suspicions. Ever heard of the CEO, Thomas Calvert?"

I shook my head.

"Well, Calvert used to be in the PRT as a squad officer. Left shortly after the Nilbog incident up in Ellisburg. I was just a detective at the time, working in the investigation of parahuman-related crimes, but there was something definitely hush-hush about the whole thing when I moved up. All I know is that he was discharged, but there was an old rumor that he actually shot his commanding officer. Impossible to verify, so I don't give it much thought."

"Why would a PRT officer decide to found a construction company?" I asked.

Jones chuckled. "Why would a PRT director retire to become a PI? Everyone has something they're good at, or at least comfortable with, and sometimes the PRT isn't for them. It might take them time to realize that, or simply a mission gone awry. But that's beside the point."

He leaned forward slightly. "Calvert being a former PRT officer could be _very_ important. I hate to admit it, being a former member myself, but there's a fair share of corruption in the institution. It's downright _terrifying_ to be a normal person going up against anyone with powers, and sometimes all it takes is a little hush money for them to look the other way. Calvert, if he is doing something illicit, would know to exploit that."

"That all?"

"Well, the Travelers might be in town, but that's unverified at the moment. I'm dealing with a lot of rumors and whispers, and not enough concrete evidence. It's frustrating work, but I might be able to make some _real_ headway over the next few weeks. You have to understand; these investigations take time, Taylor. When I was a detective back in New York, before parahumans really started to come in, I once spent a _year_ getting evidence against a mob boss."

"Did you pin him?"

Jones nodded. "It's hard work, but it's not fruitless. If Calvert proves to be what I suspect him to be, we could build up a case against him and win."

I smiled, then rose from my seat. "Thanks, John. That's all I need for now."

"Take care, Taylor."

I rose from my seat, and left the office. I started walking back home, hands in my pockets, pretending that the cold wind was actually affecting me. For a moment, I considered ducking into an alley and heading out in uniform, but there was something I needed to do first.

Pulling out my cellphone, I called Dragon.

There was only a moment's pause before she answered. " _Hello?_ "

"It's me. I was wondering if you could do me a favor."

" _After everything you've done? Of course._ "

I smiled at that. "Well, I was wondering: did you ever meet the former PRT director in Brockton Bay?"

" _You mean_ _John Jones, right? Yes, I've spoken with him before. In fact, he actually consulted with me when you made your first appearance._ "

"Did you ever feel there was anything... off about him? Mannerisms, appearance, et cetera?"

" _No, not really. He was actually quite polite, and a fair director, though Piggot's filling in his shoes quite well._ "

There was a pause before she continued. " _I take it_ you _find something off about him?_ "

"It's hard to explain," I replied. "Could you just look into his background?"

" _I can do that right now, if you'd like_."

There was a few seconds' pause. Now that I knew the truth about her, I could understand how she could search the internet so quickly and efficiently. If I'd made that request of anyone else, it'd take them much longer to pull anything up.

" _That's odd. His records only extend back to '91. He has a birth certificate and all the necessary paperwork, but I wouldn't be surprised if that was forged._ "

"How did this not get people's attention in the PRT? Don't they do background checks?"

" _To be frank, they never had_ me _do them. I'm an honorary member only, remember? It's good work, whatever he did; it'd take someone like me to unearth that. I might be able to get some more information on this, but it won't be easy. I'm rather occupied at the moment._ "

"That's alright, Dragon. I can take things from here."

" _I don't really see the purpose of this little investigation of yours anymore, Taylor; Jones retired from the PRT. Do you suspect him of something? If that's the case, then I might be able to help you._ "

"No, that's fine. Thanks for offering. I'll meet up with you later and discuss those 'pointers' you suggested."

" _Alright, then._ "

I ended the call, and shoved my phone back in my pocket. I continued walking down the street until there was nobody around, then turned into an alleyway. Changing into my uniform, I took off, heading to wherever I was needed. There was a forest fire in California that needed my attention, and I could move on from there.

As I soared across the country, however, my mind was preoccupied with something else. It was clear that Jones wanted to help me, but at the same time, he wasn't who he appeared to be.

If that was indeed the case, then just _who_ was he?

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **6.05**

Even if I wanted to get to the bottom of things with Jones's investigation, I had a lot on my hands as it was. I had managed to keep occupied while just patrolling Brockton Bay, and now I was patrolling the entire _planet_. I was racing from disaster to disaster, regardless of size, to the point where the world sometimes seemed like a blur beneath me. In one second, I could be stopping a landslide in Cambodia, then pulling a little boy out of traffic in Washington DC, and topping it off with stopping a nuclear power plant from failing.

At the same time, I also had dozens of projects in mind, many of them involving the base I made in the Arctic. Earth wasn't a terrarium that I could play God with, but that didn't mean I couldn't help people along with their own endeavors. I was helping scientists in Norway collect samples for the Svalbard Global Seed Vault, while also aiding engineers in Tunisia with designing canals and desalinators. I even helped a team of college students bring a rover of their own construction to the Moon.

After only a week as a global hero, I was still learning to pace myself. Weld was right- I'd go insane within the week if I tried non-stop heroics, and I still needed time to be _me_ , and not just Superwoman. On the other hand, I couldn't forgive myself if something horrific happened when I could've easily stopped it. The other work I was doing was fighting the causes of injustice in the world, but I still had to deal with the horrid symptoms.

Still, I needed a small break, and I had just the idea. And besides, I needed to make up to Weld for cutting the date early.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The Moon was full in the sky when I strolled to an empty street corner, and there was a chilly breeze that whistled by. The sweatshirt I wore was mainly for appearances, but the pockets were good for storage. It was fortunate, too; the pair of objects I was carrying with me would otherwise draw attention from anyone who happened to pass by.

Weld was there as I had asked, listening to some more Kryptonian music on his cassette player. His head was bobbing along with the rhythm, and a smile graced his face. It warmed my heart to see him like that, especially after how the last date had went.

He finally noticed me, and pulled his earphones off. "You look nice. I mean, not that you don't normally, but it's, um... I like your hair."

"Thanks," I replied sheepishly.

I ran a hand through my hair, which was finally returning to normal length. Whatever protective effect my body produced, it had finally extended to the point where I could grow it out like that and not worry about it being burnt off. On the flip side, products seemed to have no effect on it, either.

"So..." Weld began. "Another movie? You were pretty vague about what we were doing."

I smiled at that. "I think you're in for a pleasant surprise."

Pulling a gadget out of my pocket, I tossed it to him. He caught it with ease, then turned it over in his hand, brow furrowed.

"What is this?"

"It's an air mask," I replied. "There's also a small radio in it. I know you don't need to breathe, but you'll need it if you want to talk."

Weld blinked. "Um, just _where_ are we going, Tay?"

I allowed myself a grin. "Up."

Pulling my air mask, I motioned for him to do the same. Once that was done, I made sure the radios were working, then wrapped both arms around him in a hug. I could move people at supersonic speeds without crushing them with the sheer acceleration, or vaporizing them via friction, but I'd rather be safe then sorry.

"This might be a little weird," I said.

Before he could reply, I shot straight up, steadily increasing in speed. The wind howled past us, then faded away as I broke the sound barrier. In a matter of seconds, we were over the clouds, and Brockton Bay shone beneath our feet like countless little gems. But I didn't linger for long. Speeding up, I soared higher and higher, until the last shreds of the atmosphere tore away from us.

I finally stopped once we were in low Earth orbit. Pulling away from Weld, I held on to his hand to keep him from drifting away. His eyes widened once he finally realized where he was, and he began to stare at the blue world below us.

"Wow," he breathed. "I'm... I'm actually in _space_. I never thought I'd actually..."

He trailed off, and I couldn't blame him. The realization of where we were, coupled with the majesty of the view, was enough to strike anyone speechless. The entire world stretched out beneath us, a sea of blues and whites and other colors that only I could see. Many astronauts had spoken of their entire life changing when they looked down at their home from above, and realized just how petty the squabbles of Man were.

I had to agree. If everyone could see the world as they did, or even as _I_ did, then I don't think they could ever raise a hand in rage again.

Letting go, I let Weld drift a little. He seemed to like it, considering the look of utter glee on his face, and he began to wriggle about, trying to maneuver himself.

"This is _amazing!_ " Weld said, giddy. "I've never felt like this before."

I chuckled. "We're not even getting started yet."

Grabbing him again, I took off in the direction of the Moon. Here, where there was no air to worry about -unless you counted the particulates- I could go as fast as I wanted. In less than a second, we were floating over the silver lunar surface, near the Apollo 11 site. I set Weld down, letting him plant his feet in the regolith, then landed right beside him. Earth shone above us, a blue marble.

"I... that's Apollo," Weld said, pointing at the descent stage. "The first landing on the Moon. I-I didn't expect to ever actually _see_ it in person like this..."

I smiled warmly. "For years, I've always wanted to visit here. With eyes like mine, I could actually see this from back on Earth, but it felt so far away, you know?"

"Sort of," Weld replied.

He took a few tentative steps forward, letting the regolith crunch silently beneath his steel feet. Kneeling down, he grabbed a handful of the dust, letting it stick to his fingers. I recalled reading about how static charge caused it to attach to astronauts' suits. They also said it smelled like gunpowder, and I could somehow verify it, even through the vacuum of space.

Weld did a small hop, as if to test the low gravity, then suddenly bounded away, covering fifty feet in a single bound. The hard basalt under the regolith cracked and chipped when he landed, and he almost lost balance, but that didn't stop him from hopping again. He began to spring across the lunar landscape like a kangaroo, his metal skin glittering in the sunlight.

"Whoopee!" Weld shouted.

I watched him go, then floated closer to the Apollo site. The flag was on the ground, bleached white by decades in the sun, and I carefully put it upright again, making sure I didn't disturb any of the footprints left by Armstrong and Aldrin. Those would last for millions of years, long after the men who left them had passed away. The plaque they left, too, would last. I spent a few moments staring at it, especially the last sentence.

 _We come in peace for all mankind._

I smiled, then glanced at where Weld was still hopping about. I called for him, and he began to hop back in my direction. I decided to meet him halfway, and we stood in silence for a few moments, just smiling at each other.

Then, I put my arm over his shoulder, pulled out a camera.

"You sure this is a good idea?" he asked. "I want to, but..."

"Don't worry," I replied, chuckling. "If people ever see this, they'd think it's a fake."

Turning away from the Apollo site, I rested my head on Weld's shoulder, and angled the camera as to capture the site _and_ the Earth overhead.

"Cheese!"

The camera blinked, and I made sure the picture was right. Sure enough, it showed the two of us with wider grins than I thought possible, while Apollo and Earth shone behind us.

"I think Dennis would be foaming at the mouth if he saw this," Weld said.

"You think that's bad? I think Emma would be furious that I didn't take _her_ to this spot, as a betrayal of our friendship."

Putting the camera away, I tightened my grip around Weld. "Next stop, Jupiter."

"No Mars?" Weld asked.

I shrugged. "It wouldn't feel right, to steal the accomplishment away from the astronauts who're spending years preparing for a mission like that. No-one's going to mind if we're the first on Io or Europa, though."

"Fair point."

And with that, we were off. There were more particulates in the asteroid belt, and I decided to put myself in front of Weld as to block them from him. For at least ten minutes, we sped through the empty void, and I altered my flight pattern as to better make my way to Jupiter. Before our very eyes, it went from a single point in the sky, to a massive disc that dominated everything in sight.

Settling down on Ganymede, we simply spent a half-hour just _watching_ Jupiter spin before us. Even though we were still thousands of miles away from it, it took up a massive chunk of the sky. Great bands of cloud swirled around the king of the planets, while storms bigger than the Earth raged. I could take in _all_ of it, all the way down to the boiling seas of metallic hydrogen, and the diamond core bigger than Earth.

Pulling out my camera again, I snapped a few more pictures, and took a selfie with Weld. Jupiter made for an astounding backdrop, and I found myself thinking of where to visit next. The rings of Saturn would be amazing to see up close, and I always wanted to see the icy clouds of Neptune up close...

"I might get transferred soon." Weld said it hurriedly, like he was spitting out poison.

I snapped my head in his direction, mouth agape. "What?"

Weld sighed, and bowed his head. "I was sent to Brockton Bay because of how bad things were getting. The ABB and E88 were at their throats, remember? They _needed_ another Ward there, in case things made a turn for the worse. But now, the city's completely safe. In fact, it's the safest in the world."

"Because of me."

"I'm not the only one, either. Assault and Battery might be packing up for New York, and Armsmaster's probably moving to Chicago. They're not needed in the Bay anymore."

A moment's pause. For the briefest moment, I thought I saw a strange flicker across his face. It was almost like light, but not quite.

I dismissed it for the time being.

"We can still date," I finally said. "It'd be easy for me to visit on your off-hours."

"It'd be easy for Superwoman, but would it be easy for Taylor Hebert?" Weld was frowning as he spoke. "I don't want to get transferred, but I don't have much say in it, either. Hopefully, they'll let me stay here."

I grabbed his hand, squeezing tightly. "We can still make it work. You said it yourself. I'm Superwoman; I can do anything."

Weld smiled, but said nothing more.

I leaned into him, wrapping my arms around his waist, and he reciprocated. We held each other for a while, just watching Jupiter spin by. It must've only been for a few minutes, but to me, it felt like an eternity.

Then, I held my breath and pulled off my mask. Bringing Weld in close, I removed his mask and kissed him. He deepened it, then I pulled away and helped him to his feet.

"I have to get you back before your next shift starts," I said, once the mask was back on. "C'mon, let's go."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Weld kissed me goodbye before leaving to call a cab. I watched him go, even after the car pulled away, then I looked down at the camera. The picture of us on the Moon brought a smile to my face, and started the walk back home.

I didn't get far, before the sound of a knife sliding into flesh reached my ears.

In a heartbeat, I was halfway across the city, flying through an open doorway and into an apartment. It was a fairly nondescript room, with a bright red rock on a desk being the only thing that really stood out among the cheap furniture and non-painted walls.

Right in the middle of the hallway, a man in filthy clothing was driving a knife into Jones's heart. At the speeds I was moving at, the two were as still as statues, like a macabre art display. Jones's face was frozen in shock, and I knew he'd be lucky to survive, judging by how the blade had torn into his cardiac muscles.

I had to move quickly, before the damage became irreversible. Stepping in between, I pulled the destitute man away from Jones, and pinned him to the wall with enough force to crack the drywall. Time sped up again, and he hit the floor, coughing. Greasy black hair hung down his face, and I saw the symptoms of long-term drug abuse in his body.

He was most likely just a crackhead, not an assassin, but it still begged the question of _why_ he chose Jones. But I could focus on that later. In the meantime, I actually needed to save the detective's life.

With him out of the way, I turned to Jones. I couldn't remove the knife yet, otherwise the serrated edges would do even more damage, but I could ease him to a prone position. If I focused my heat vision just right, I could possibly cauterize the wound as I removed the blade-

Suddenly, Jones rose upright, and pulled the knife out of his chest.

There was only a little blood on the edge, and it began to fade into smoke as he tossed the blade away with enough force to imbed it in the wall. He glanced at me, then stared at the crackhead, a look of _fury_ on his face.

"John?" I asked, weakly. "W-what..."

" _Ruining_ my disguise," Jones snarled, stalking towards the crackhead. "Stupid of me to let my guard down."

The man looked up in horror, then moved to run away. I was in so much shock, I actually gave him a half-second's start. It was enough for Jones to move first. A green tendril whipped out from his arm, as fast as a bullwhip, and wrapped itself around the man's legs, tying them together.

With a tug, Jones pulled the man towards him, ignoring his pleas. His eyes flashed orange, and suddenly the crackhead fainted, falling limp. It was then that I finally recovered from my shock, and stepped between the two.

"John," I said, voice firm.

The rage faded from his face. "Sorry. Getting my cover blown doesn't make for a level head."

"Cover?" I asked. "John, what the _hell_ is going on? How did you do that?"

Jones sighed. "I'm sorry; I should've told you from the start, instead of letting you find out like this."

With a gesture, he shut the door before turning back to me. "John Jones is a pseudonym; an alias I've used in many forms over the decades. I've been watching you, daughter of El, making sure you were safe."

Daughter of El. Only one other being had used that term to describe me. It was then that I looked at Jones, and I mean _looked_. Down to the molecular level and below, past the façade he could even keep up on the cellular level. And in that moment, I realized that he wasn't even remotely human.

"Y-you're him," I whispered. "The Green Dragon."

"In a sense," he replied. "That, too, is an alias. I am the last of my people, just like you. The sole survivor of Ma'aleca'andra, a world you know as Mars."

As soon as he said that, he changed. His skin went from a dark brown, to a bright teal, and he grew in height, until his head scraped the ceiling. He broadened across the shoulders and narrowed at the hips, giving the impression of some top-heavy hulk of a being. His arms and legs lengthened, their proportions changing, and his spine curved until he was like a hunchback. His mouth and nose melted back into his narrowing face, and his eyes became a uniform orange as his head lengthened.

When it was done, a nine-foot-tall _thing_ stood before me, with four-foot-wide shoulders. His three-fingered hands scraped the floor, and his legs had become like those of a bird, with the joint facing the other way. His face was without a mouth, nose, or ears; all he had were those orange eyes, totally unlike anything found on Earth.

"Who?" I began.

 _My name,_ he rumbled, the words forming in my mind, _is J'onn J'onzz._

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Six, Part II: Up, Up, and Away_**


	20. Arc 7, Part I

**7.01**

For a few moments, I simply stared at the being before me. It stared back, with orange eyes that glowed softly in the dim room. Despite how utterly inhuman they looked, I could still see the intelligence behind them, that same _studying_ gaze that separated man from his fellow beasts.

"How-" I finally managed to squeak.

 _It is... a long story,_ John -no, J'onn- replied softly. _I understand you must have many questions._

"That's... that's putting it mildly," I said. "There's so much I want to ask you, but I don't know where to start, or how to approach this."

 _I'm sure you can think of something by the time we've cleaned everything up._ J'onn gestured to the unconscious crackhead on the ground. _First, we need to turn him in._

"But he saw you. He saw _me_ out of uniform."

 _No need to worry,_ J'onn said. _I've wiped his memory and replaced it with other events. As far as he is concerned, he was tazed by me in self defense as soon as he entered the door._

I blinked. "Wait. It was _you_ who wiped Saint's memory of Dragon's codes, wasn't it? I mean, I had a feeling, but..."

J'onn nodded, almost bowing his long head. _It was to protect your identity. And, to protect Dragon. I had long considered stopping the Dragonslayers right as they were starting, but I was afraid of revealing myself. I set the PRT against them, and I hoped that would've been enough._

He made a small sound, almost like a sigh. _I regret not working harder on that. Now, let us get to work._

With a gesture, he shut the door with a soft click; it'd be awkward if a neighbor walked in to see a nine-foot-tall alien standing with a teenaged girl. Then, he began to repair the damage to the wall. It was fascinating, seeing how finely tuned his telekinesis was; he could pick up each individual granule, and put it back in place, just as it had been before. In a few moments, the wall was as good as new.

I stared at his handiwork, then turned back to him.

"What now?"

 _Now, I'll call the police and inform them that a man broke into my apartment. You should leave soon, and meet me at the street corner in half an hour. I'll talk to you then, and you can ask whatever questions you have._

I nodded. "Okay."

 _Good._

J'onn shrank, his proportions becoming more human, and clothes began to form over his body. The finer features were the last to return- the wrinkles in his skin, the countless imperceptible body hairs, the liver spots near his eyes. Soon, John Jones stood before me, nursing a bruise on his cheek. It was astonishing, really; he could make himself look so _human_ , to the point where I'd never gotten past some vague suspicions.

"I should have told you earlier," he said. "The truth, I mean. See you soon enough, Taylor."

I took a deep breath. "See you soon."

I brushed by him, and left the apartment.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was forty minutes before J'onn joined me on the corner. He was dressed in the usual trench coat and fedora, and had even put a bandage over the cut on his cheek. It seemed that he covered as many details as possible, in order to maintain appearances. In some ways, it reminded me of how I had to appear normal- the braces I wore served as an example.

"You hungry?" he asked. "Bit of a trick question, but I know a place with some privacy, where we can talk."

"Can't you just, you know, use telepathy?" I asked.

He chuckled. "That requires concentration. It'd draw a bit of attention if we stared intently at each other for an hour, never saying a word."

"Fair enough," I conceded.

"It still has its uses." He turned, gesturing for me to follow. "C'mon, it's a little way down the street."

After a moment's pause, I followed after him. It was a short walk indeed; we soon found ourselves in front of a small noodle shop. It was tucked between two larger buildings, and a glimpse through the wall revealed only a handful of staff, along with a young couple eating in the corner. It was pretty clean, as far as restaurants went.

J'onn opened the door, and I stepped in after him. An elderly hostess gave a broad smile when she saw him, and slowly moved towards us.

"John!" she exclaimed, her accent thick. "Good to see you again!"

She glanced my way, brow furrowed, then turned back to J'onn.

"Brought a friend?" she asked in Mandarin.

"I'm just a client," I replied, smiling.

She made a small laugh. "Smart girl! But your accent is very American. Be sure to work on it!"

J'onn chuckled. "Like mine is any better. Table for two, please."

"Of course. Same spot?"

"Always."

Liu plucked two menus from a rack, and ushered us to a corner. John sat down, and I took a seat across from him. A waiter came over and poured us water, then took our orders.

When the waiter left, I leaned forward. "Old acquaintance?"

"We go way back," J'onn replied. "And feel free to ask your questions; your mind feels like it's about to explode."

I took a deep breath. "Alright. First- are you actually from Mars? As in, the red planet next door?"

J'onn nodded. "Of course, my people call... _called_ it Ma'aleca'andra. The meaning is rather hard to translate, but it's essentially 'red home jewel in sea of black, lit by the ever-fire'. Your world, the one we're on, was called Thu'uluca'andra. It means 'blue dream sea in sea of black, lit by the ever-fire'."

"Pretty complicated names there," I said. "We named our home after dirt."

I paused, thinking, then continued. "Alright, _how_ are you from Mars? The place is barren, and it's been like that for millions of years."

"And so it has," J'onn replied. "At least, it's been barren by your standards. By the time the last seas dried up, we didn't need them. We adapted to what you'd consider harsh conditions, and that was home to us."

"But there should still be something, right? Ruins of some kind, stuff that we should've found."

"We're not talking about a few thousand years, here. By the time your species even evolved, the last ruins had crumbled to dust."

I blinked. "Wait, just how _old_ are you?"

"Your years, or my years?" J'onn asked.

"Mine, I guess."

"I lost exact count a few million back, but I'm in the neighborhood of one and a quarter billion years old. I used to occasionally visit Thu'uluca'andra and spend time watching the vast seas of algae bloom and die. Unfortunately, I missed the Cambrian explosion; I was out of system at the time. I did get to see some other life-forms, however."

A billion years. As hard as I tried, I couldn't even _begin_ to comprehend that span of time. All of human history, or even Kryptonian history, would be a drop in an ocean, compared to that time. Stars could live and die in such a long epoch. The reign of the dinosaurs was scarcely a fraction. I'd only existed for fifteen years, and had already seen and learned so many things- what could be learnt in a billion?

Could I end up like that? Was there even a limit to how long I could live? For all I knew, I could live to see the end of the universe itself, when the last proton decays, and reality sinks into heat death. Or, at least, it _could_. I'd have to figure it out by myself.

"Jesus," I muttered.

"A lot to take in, I know," J'onn said. "It's a lot for me, too. I was afraid for a while, you see, that I'd forget my home in such a long time. As millennia stretched into aeons, I feared that everything that made me _me_ would sink into that kind of abyss. Thankfully, it hasn't. I haven't forgotten even the smallest things."

"You said you were out of the solar system. Where were you?"

"Exploring. And that's all I'm saying, at least for now."

"And how long have you been on Earth?" I asked.

"I've made a bunch of short visits, over a few geological time spans. Uninterrupted, though? Since 1955. I was also here back in the 1800's for a while. I've been many people, many _things_ , while learning about Earth. I've been a fisherman in Hong Kong, and a professor in Wales. I've been a great white shark in the Pacific, and a tree in Central Park. I've been a Japanese reporter, and a Russian midwife."

I leaned back, taking a sip of my water. "What about the man before me? How long have you been John Jones?"

"On and off, during that time; it's definitely my favorite identity on Earth. The others, I could learn, but as Jones, I can _do_. I can help people with my abilities, without revealing myself or playing God with humanity's destiny."

He gestured to his trench coat, which was hanging on a rack. "It's a bit cliche, but it wasn't when I first wore it, and I'm very nostalgic. I got the look by reading old private eye novels, when I was immersing myself in humanity. I was laughably stereotypical during the time, but I was the best detective on the force during the Depression. Made a strange friend, and some strange enemies, along the way as a result. But that's another story altogether."

There was a few moment's pause when the waiter came to refill our drinks. When he left, I leaned forward again.

"I still haven't asked, since it might be a touchy subject," I began, "but what happened to your people? What happened to Ma'aleca'andra?"

J'onn looked up, and I could see the pain in his eyes. It was a deep _agony_ , like a wound that still hadn't healed after so many thousands of millennia.

The waiter came with our orders, but neither of us touched our plates.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"Don't be; you asked a natural question. It's... it's not something I should discuss for the moment," he finally replied. "There are certain subjects that are extremely sensitive, so to speak."

I frowned. "Please don't tell me it's something I need to be 'ready' for; I get enough of that from Brainiac."

J'onn paused in the middle of eating his soup. "Brainiac? The AI?"

"No, it's just a shell program serving as a chatbot," I began, only for my eyes to widen. "Wait wait wait. How did you know about Brainiac?"

"I'm a telepath, Taylor. I don't like to pry into people's heads, but I often skin a few thoughts from the top of their minds, just to steady myself. I picked up something about an AI, and something called Brainiac."

"Is that also how you figured out my identity?" I asked.

He shook his head. "No, I'm actually a good detective, too. I didn't need to be from Mars to do that."

We fell silent for a few moments to eat. After slurping up a few noodles, I continued with my questioning.

"So, what about the 'Green Dragon'? Why did you only fight Leviathan?"

As if by cosmic coincidence, there was a brief flare from the kitchen as the cooks put out a burning duck, and I saw J'onn flinch. It was easy to connect the dots from there, especially with what I had seen back in Providence.

" _That's_ your big weakness?" I asked, incredulous. "Fire?"

"I evolved in an atmosphere devoid of oxygen," J'onn replied. "I might be tough, but I'm actually _very_ flammable. Unfortunately, a few have learned to use that against me. Behemoth, naturally, and the Simurgh."

"What other enemies have you made?" I asked.

Before J'onn could answer, I suddenly became aware of a horrible shriek, closer to the heart of the city. I spun in my seat, and I could sense alarm from J'onn.

"What is it?" he asked.

I blinked in surprise. "I... I actually don't know."

It was the best answer I could provide. I was a bit distracted at the moment, considering that a monstrous _thing_ with a woman's upper body was running from the wreck of a truck, clearly in a panic.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **7.02**

As soon as I stood up from my seat, J'onn clamped a firm hand on my shoulder. At the same time, the giant figure slowed down, her movements becoming less frantic. She was calming down, if only by a little.

 _I remember doing an investigation into someone who might've been her,_ J'onn said, a look of strain on his face. _We need to be careful with this. I'm soothing her mind as much as I can, but it won't be enough. You must try and defuse the situation before it gets worse._

 _Got it,_ I replied.

I briskly walked to the exit of the restaurant. Once I was outside, I changed into my uniform and flew to the spot in less than a second, landing a good twenty feet in front of the figure.

The thing -no, the girl- stopped dead in her tracks, and stared. She was absolutely massive, now that I was seeing her up close. Her lower body was _big_ , bigger than an elephant, and looked like something from Lovecraft's worst dreams. She had countless legs of different shapes and sizes, many of them grotesque caricatures of animals' limbs, as well as a multitude of gaping maws.

The stench of rancid meat and fresh blood reached my nose, and I had to repress a gag.

"I-I remember you," the girl said. Despite her monstrous lower half, her voice was soft, even raspy. "I r-read about you on the net. You're the alien girl who killed the Endbringer. Sue something."

"Superwoman," I said. "And I'm here to help you, but I need you to stay calm. What's your name?"

After a moment's hesitation, the girl replied, "N-Noelle."

"Alright, Noelle. Could you tell me what happened?"

"I was in a truck- uh, that truck over there, and it crashed. I started to, um, p-panic, and the drivers... oh god, the drivers."

Before I could press further into what she meant by that, I heard a bellow of rage, coming from around the corner. Turning around and peering through the building, I saw a hulkish figure of a man chasing down a couple, steadily gaining ground. He was malformed, with one arm far longer and more muscular than its atrophied twin, and his gait was lopsided due to a gnarled stump of a left foot.

How the hell could I have missed that? Had the conversation with J'onn distracted me that much?

I could think about that later. In a heartbeat, I had the man restrained with the zip-ties I carried in my belt. He strained against them, spittle flying out of his mouth as he screamed obscenities, but he was secured. Just to be sure, I tied him to a nearby telephone pole, then strained my hearing, listening for any more trouble.

Sure enough, there was another deformed man, this time with a single pallid flipper as a lower body. He was on the next street, using his monstrous arms to crawl after a five-year old. He was just as easy to handle as the first, but that still didn't answer the question of _why_ they had appeared. I could tell that questioning would get me nowhere; their brains were just as messed up as their bodies.

After scanning for any more, I returned to Noelle. She hadn't moved in the short span I had left her behind, but I could tell that she was beginning to panic again. Police sirens were wailing in the distance, along with those of the PRT. Someone must have seen the deformed men and called for them; it was a smart move on paper, but I could tell it could only escalate things from here.

"Noelle, stay calm," I said, trying my best to sound assuring. "Now, can you tell me what happened to the drivers?"

"They're... I think they're inside me," Noelle replied. "When the truck crashed, I ended jolting into them when I tried to get out, and t-they got stuck to me, and I..."

I didn't need to hear any more. They had blended in quite well with all the other animal appendages and outright bodies stored inside Noelle's lower body, but I could see the two of them close to her center, stored in something almost like an embryonic sac. They were still alive, thankfully; I could hear their heartbeats, slow and steady. It seemed that they were asleep, dreaming, but there was strange brain activity going on.

Again, I shouldn't have missed that. I needed to focus, brush aside what J'onn had revealed to me about himself. Civilians were already moving away, leaving the street empty, but I had no idea if that'd be enough in case things got ugly. I had no idea of just how tough Noelle actually was; for all I knew, she could rival an Endbringer in destructive capability, and that wasn't taking into account the malformed men.

"Noelle," I asked softly, "can you try and get them out?"

"I tried," came the hoarse reply. "But when I did, those _things_ came out. It happens every time something alive touches me. They come out bigger, stronger, and _meaner_. Sometimes, I-I lose control, if I'm not in a really good headspace, and the other part just goes on autopilot. It's... it's awful, and it's getting worse with each passing day."

That explained the two men I'd apprehended- they were imperfect copies of the drivers. Clones, of a sort, each of them a danger to civilians.

Well, that raised a problem. If she absorbed a cape, would the copies have powers? And what about me? I had no idea how well she'd be able to copy my physiology, but I didn't want to find out. If the resulting clone had even a _fraction_ of my power...

This was getting more serious than I'd originally suspected. I needed to get Noelle away from here, and I needed to get the two men out without the risk of making a clone. And, based on how her hormone levels were rapidly changing, it seemed I wouldn't have much time before the so-called 'autopilot' took over.

Clicking a sensor on my wrist, I activated the comms I built into my suit.

"Dragon, this is Superwoman. We have a situation in Brockton Bay, and I could use some assistance."

" _I've already received reports about a massive_ thing _in the city. Possibility of multiple hostiles as well. Is any of that true?_ "

"More or less," I replied. "Listen, we need equipment to move a living thing bigger than an elephant. I also need thick gloves, and a helmet."

" _Strange request, but I'll trust your judgment for the time being. Armsmaster and I will arrive in fifteen minutes or so, with the equipment you specified._ "

"Good." I turned off comms, then turned back to Noelle. "Listen, I'm bringing in some people to move you to a safe location."

"You m-mean that base of yours in the North Pole or something, right?" Noelle asked. "You're taking me there?"

I nodded. "We have the most advanced equipment in the entire world over there. If anyone can help you, or save those men, it's use. I can't promise anything but this: I will do everything in my power to help you. All you need to do is to calm down, and wait for my friends to arrive so we can bring you there."

"You're actually going to help me?"

"Of course I am. I'm Superwoman."

That seemed to have the desired effect. Noelle took a deep breath, and I could sense that her adrenaline levels were dropping as she began to try and keep a level head, even as the PRT and police neared.

Then, I heard someone cry her name.

I became aware of a trio of heartbeats coming in from behind. Craning my neck, I saw three capes swiftly approaching, riding some kind of six-legged serpent with feathery skin. Their mount skidded to a halt when it saw me, then approached at a slower pace.

"Trickster?" I heard Noelle murmur.

The lead cape dismounted, then ran towards her. As he got closer, he held his hands up, as if to assure me he meant no harm. Nonetheless, I kept an eye on him as he approached.

"Noelle, what's going on?" Trickster asked.

"Her truck crashed, and she's accidentally absorbed the drivers," I replied, recalling what Noelle had told me. "I'm handling the situation."

Trickster blinked at me, as if taken aback by what I said. Behind him, the other two capes were approaching, wary. One was a burly-looking man with square features, while the other was a rather lithe woman. I didn't recognize their costumes, but there was something familiar about them- their body types, the way they carried themselves.

It suddenly clicked. Were these the Travelers that J'onn had told me about, back before Leviathan had attacked? They had to have been the ones in Providence, with the matching red and black costumes. Why were they here?

"The clones?" Trickster asked, bringing back to earth. "Did you get the clones?"

"I have them secured," I replied.

"You need to kill them." His voice was urgent, genuinely worried.

"I don't need to kill anyone. They're secured, and they're not getting out. Trust me."

"They're also not real people," Trickster shot back. "We've dealt with them before. They're fucking crazy, and they won't stop trying to kill people. You can't fucking rehabilitate them, Superwoman."

I folded my arms. "I'll wait before making a judgment like that. For now, there's other issues at hand. I'm taking Noelle to my base in the Arctic, so I can try and find a way to help her."

"We already have somebody trying to help her," the burly man said. "Not that we don't appreciate it, but it's our decision to make. She's our friend."

"I think it's her choice to make," I replied. "And who else is trying to help her?"

Before I could get a reply, the screeching of tires down the street informed me that the PRT had arrived. I could hear the clicking of assault rifles being prepared, as well as the soft hiss of charging foam guns.

"Fuck," I heard Trickster mutter under his breath.

Noelle's heart began to beat like a jackrabbit. Thick blood and other fluids began to flow through her body as her endorphins spiked, and she spun around to face the PRT vans parking themselves a hundred feet away. Her eyes were wide with fear, and I realized things were going to go pear-shaped if I didn't act fast.

"I have the situation under control-" I began to declare, loud enough for them to here.

By then, however, it was too late. As someone who could see neurons sparking in the brain, I could tell when a person's brain-waves were shifting, so to speak, between levels of consciousness. Impulses dropped in some areas, and spiked in others, all while endorphins and other chemicals altered their ratios and levels in the brain.

When I looked at Noelle, at how her face had contorted itself into rage, yet her eyes were glazed over, I knew that she'd shifted into autopilot.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **7.03**

For someone so massive, Noelle could _move_. She wasn't as fast as Leviathan, but she could certainly keep up with a car on the highway if she wanted to.

Still, she might as well have been motionless to me. I raced ahead of her, moving the vans and officers out of her path, then turned to face her. Taking a deep breath, I pursed my lips and exhaled, aiming at the ground in front of Noelle. A cone of liquid nitrogen hit the pavement, and a spire of ice sprung upwards as the water in the air froze. Strafing it along, I managed to erect a thick wall of ice in Noelle's path, trying to hem her in.

It held up shorter than I'd have liked. Noelle slammed into it like a freight train, shattering most of the ice in a single hit. She reeled back, as if dazed by the blow, and I saw that several of her monstrous appendages had splintered from the impact. She quickly recovered, wounds healing, then brushed aside the remaining ice with her front legs. I exhaled again, creating more ice, but she began to climb over it.

She was making it hard for me to save her.

Her lower body seemed to have the greatest connection to her powers. I could see a 'well' of sorts; a part of her body that the excess fluids and tissues seemed to be coming from. Could I isolate that, along with Noelle's human half? It'd keep her immobilized, at least for a short while, and that'd give Dragon enough time to come over with the materials I'd requested.

I fired my heat-vision, slicing away Noelle's front limbs. She collapsed forward, a roar coming from her many mouths, but already she was regenerating the damage. I pressed on, slicing away the replacements, then neatly carved away a good chunk of her lower body. I had to take care not to vaporize the two men inside her, or to cut the core, but I still managed it.

The body parts I severed began to fall apart, and Noelle toppled backwards. Gallons of blood and other fluids sprayed forth as her well was pulled free like a seed from an overripe fruit, and I could hear a wet snap as her arm broke on impact with the pavement. The sacs containing the drivers began to peel away as they decomposed, and the two men began to cough out the fluid in their lungs.

It was at that moment that a car hit me like a bullet.

Time slowed to a crawl as the vehicle finished crumpling against me. The car split and half as it wrapped around me, then exploded into countless pieces. The impact failed to knock me out of the sky, but the resulting shrapnel was a problem, considering that there were a dozen non-powered people nearby. Frantically, I began to grab the larger pieces of debris, the ones that'd cut through steel like butter. The PRT officers' armor protected them from the smaller bits, so I was able to better focus my attention on the lethal shrapnel.

It was still too close. Turning, I saw that the car had come from one of Noelle's friends. The burly-looking man, to be exact, who was in the process of reaching at another car. In a flash, I had him unconscious and cuffed, only for the girl to start up one of her miniature suns. Inhaling deeply, I breathed out-

-and found myself across the street.

I managed to stop myself from freezing a car, then spun around to face the Travelers again. That had to have been Tricktster who did that. What was his power, exactly? It had to involve swapping out people or objects, but I still didn't quite know the limits. I needed to take him out first, before-

-now, I was close to Noelle, too close. She was already regenerating the damage I'd done, and I had to back up before she could touch me. The PRT was taking action as well; already they'd foamed down her front legs, but she was tearing free of it quicker than they could lay it on.

This was getting frustrating, and the Travelers weren't making it any better. I could understand _why_ they were doing this, since their friend was on the line, but that didn't justify putting all of those men at risk. I needed to take them down, especially Trickster, before anyone actually died because of them.

Before Trickster could swap me out again, I flew forward and knocked him out with a strike to the jaw. The girl tried to direct her sun at me, but I took her out as well, then tied her to her friends. Considering their powers, it wouldn't hold them forever, but it'd keep them out of the way for the time being.

Unfortunately, taking them down took time, which Noelle used to great effect.

The sound of tearing metal reached my ears, and I turned to see Noelle smashing into the PRT's front lines, absorbing any officer she could make contact with. Already four of them were inside her, placed closer to her well than earlier. Getting them out would be harder than before, and that didn't include the clones she'd be spewing out in the meantime.

This was already getting out of hand, and not even five minutes had passed.

Rushing forward, I moved the remaining officers out of Noelle's reach, putting them on nearby rooftops. Once they were safe, I landed back down on the street, putting some distance between me and Noelle. Grabbing the vans, I put flipped them on their sides, then froze them in place, trying to hem her in. She'd smashed through the ice without much trouble, but hopefully armored cars would give her more pause.

Like before, she slammed right into the frozen vans, then began to pound away at them with her monstrous legs, vomit spewing from the mouths on her lower body. Ten clones rushed out of her, trying to find their footing. They were even less developed than before; half of them couldn't even properly stand up as they began to move away. The barriers would limit their movement, and it'd be simple to incapacitate them.

Then, suddenly, Noelle began to _climb_. Her clawed feet slipped on the icy metal at first, then began to find purchase as she applied more force to it.

After a moment's hesitation, I froze her front legs. She howled in agony as the tissues began to crack and tear, then simply tore free. Noelle slid back down, but already her legs were regrowing. In a moment, I had a feeling she'd try it again, so I froze her other legs to the ground. It'd keep her incapacitated for a while longer, while I tried to think of a solution.

" _This is Sergeant Wells,_ " I heard one of the officers on the rooftop say into his radio. " _Repeat, this is Sergeant Wells. Superwoman currently engaging possible Case-53. Power seems to involve replication of victims. Victims are kept alive and inside, may evolve into hostage situation. Waiting for classification._ "

That wasn't good. It was natural that the PRT would call in for reinforcements, but if Noelle could clone parahumans with powers, then the situation could worsen. Already I could hear a few heartbeats approaching as another van came in, then feet on the ground. One of them sounded heavy, _very_ heavy, and I turned to see Weld and the other Wards approaching.

"I heard there was trouble-" Clockblocker began, only for his eyes to widen behind his mask. "Ohgodwhatthefuck."

"Stay back," I warned. "She might be able to copy you."

"Copy?" Weld asked.

As if to answer his question, a clone climbed over the barricade. His legs were joined at the ankle, and more like a flipper than anything else, but his arms were almost as big as the rest of his body.

"Alien!" the clone rasped, then fell down.

I caught him before he could split his skull on the pavement, then bound his arms with several zip ties. He continued to struggle, swearing at me, and tried to break his restraints. Clockblocker dashed over and froze him, putting that to a stop, then began to back away when he heard Noelle scream from behind the barricade. He stopped, however, when I clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"I could use your help right now, actually," I said.

"What."

"I need you to freeze the barriers, so she'll have trouble getting out. The longer she's there, the better."

Clockblocker nodded, a bit numbly, then did as told. The barrier froze, just as Noelle was beginning to move again. I flew up, taking off her legs, then froze more of her lower body to the ground. In response, she aimed a stream of vomit at me. I ducked beneath it, then caught one of the clones that came out. After securing him, I turned back to the Wards.

"Dragon's coming in with equipment to move her to a safe location," I said. "We need to keep her incapacitated until then."

"We're moving her?" Weld asked.

"Long story, but I think we can help her. Her power's controlling her, making her lash out like this."

Weld glanced at Noelle, half-hidden by the barricade. Emotion flickered over his face, and I realized that the point must've been close to home. If he had been less lucky, he could've ended up like her, with a power he couldn't control.

"I trust you on this, but we need a plan," he finally said.

"Agreed. Weld, don't you kind of fit in a happy medium when it comes to powers?"

He nodded. "Powers that work only on living things can't affect me, and the same goes for powers that only work on inanimate objects. I don't think she can copy me. At least, I hope."

"Good. She has four people inside of her, and that's how she's making clones. Do you think you can free them?"

Weld sighed. "I can try."

"I'll keep her distracted while you move in."

"Why do you need our help, anyway?" Clockblocker asked. "I thought you'd have this in the bag."

"She clones people when she touches them," I replied. "Do you really want her to clone _me_?"

"That's... okay, I can see why you're having trouble. I don't want to see what that girl-monster-cape would spit out if that happened."

"You can still help," I said. "We need to make a barrier around her once the men are out, and keep her hemmed in."

"I think I can do that, but you might need to carry me around," Clockblocker said.

I nodded. "Shouldn't be a problem."

"What about Vista and I?" Gallant asked.

"I need you to handle the clones. They'll be trying to escape while the rest of us are distracted, and they'll try to attack anyone they see. Try not to kill them, but..."

Gallant nodded. "I understand."

"We need to act fast," I said. "I picked up some chatter from the PRT, about how they might label this an S-class threat and bring in reinforcements."

"Uh, you sure it was just chatter?" Clockblocker asked, eyes widening. "I'm starting to think it's more than that."

Before I could ask, I became aware of another heartbeat, farther down the street behind Noelle. I followed Clockblocker's gaze, and saw a figure in a green robe flying towards the battlefield, lighting crackling about him as he regarded Noelle with a blank mask. Eidolon. I hadn't heard him just a moment ago, which meant he had to have teleported in.

The lighting around Eidolon flared, and two more capes flickered into existence as he brought them to the fight. Legend and Hero, to be exact. Already they began to set up a perimeter around Noelle, while the officers backed down.

It seemed they'd agreed on Noelle's classification.

"Superwoman?" Weld asked.

"I think this just got more complicated," I said. "A whole lot more."

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Seven, Part I: Strange Visitor**_


	21. Arc 7, Part II

**7.04**

Eidolon didn't waste any time. The lightning faded away, and I realized he was shifting to another power. Was it something that could end the fight before it got out of hand?

While Eidolon let his new power build up its strength, Legend opened fire. Lasers of a multitude of colors struck Noelle's legs, blasting them apart in flecks of gore. They twisted and changed angles, tearing out more of her flesh without threatening the people trapped inside.

The limbs began to regenerate, only for Hero to open fire. He had a massive rifle in his hands, one that looked like something from an old pulp novel, and a golden beam shot out when he pulled the trigger. Where it struck, Noelle's flesh fell apart on the atomic level, crumbling to powders and gases as it was returned to its composite elements. A golden film stayed on the wound as well, and I realized it was slowing her regeneration.

Not that it seemed to stop her much. She howled, then spat out in all directions with her vomit. Some of flew over the barrier, coating me and the Wards, and a clone came with it. I caught the malformed woman and secured her, then looked up to see everyone but Weld on the ground, coughing. Looking down at my hand, I realized the vomit was actually a sludge of dying bacteria and viruses, just as malformed as the clones.

It actually made sense, thinking about it. She absorbed and cloned people- why couldn't she do the same to smaller organisms?

Clockblocker was the first to recover, since his armor covered every inch of his body. Some of the vomit had seeped through, but already it had died, and stopped affecting his body in the process. He rose to his feet on shaky legs, then looked at me.

"I'm going to need to shower after this," he said, numbly.

I wiped the last dregs of the vomit off my suit, then turned to the other Wards. They were swiftly recovering, too; it seemed that the effects were only meant to be temporary.

"Things got even more complicated, didn't they?" Weld asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, this is bad."

Behind us, Noelle began to slide towards the Triumvirate, leaving a trail of vomit and clones behind her. Already Hero's weapon was wearing off, even as he took more shots at her. Instead of trying to regenerate the damage, her body simply began growing tissue around over the wounds. More mouths were forming, some of them unlike any earthly animal, and the sounds they made chilled me to the bone.

That was when Eidolon finally moved in to attack. I could see gravity waves emanating from his body as he flew, then swept his hand across the street. There was a spike of gravity waves rising from the ground in a ring, and suddenly everything affected was _flattened_. Cars were crushed thinner than pancakes; clones liquefied; and Noelle's legs ended up painted across several buildings.

I stared at the carnage. There had been a half-dozen clones in the vicinity of Noelle when Eidolon attacked, and he'd just ended their lives without a second thought. It wasn't like he _had_ to, either; the third most powerful person on the planet could've spared them if he had really wanted to. Why was he caring so little about collateral damage, especially since I was here to help?

I had to make sure there weren't any clones nearby when he tried that next.

"Weld, with me," I said, grabbing him by the arm. "Try and see if you can cut the people out; they'll be close to her center. Vista, Gallant, try and incapacitate the clones."

I didn't give them time to acknowledge. Flying forward, I dropped Weld off right by Noelle, then began to move the clones out of the way, securing each of them with zip ties. While I did that, I could hear flesh being sliced open as Weld began to chop his way to saving the hostages. Turning to watch his progress, I saw him rip one of them clean out of Noelle's stomach, then toss the man to me.

I caught the hostage, then moved him to one of the rooftops. He was already stirring back to wakefulness, as the bacteria in the vomit died, and I let the PRT take care of him as I flew back down. Weld was pulling another hostage free, just as Noelle was turning her attention to him. He tossed the hostage to me, then continued hacking his way through.

Unfortunately, Noelle began to heal _around_ him. She couldn't clone him, but she could still probably trap him inside, using him as another hostage. Maybe he'd be able to free himself, but maybe he wouldn't.

Which was why, against my better judgment, I flew over and began to pull him free, even though he was almost completely enveloped. I positioned myself to keep from making skin contact, and I used heat vision to keep some of the flesh away as it rapidly bubbled forth.

Maybe, if I was better at using my heat vision, I could've just freed Noelle's hostages that way. If this fight would teach me anything, it was that I was still fairly inexperienced.

Still, it was working... until Eidolon used his gravity attack again.

There was a sudden increase in weight, and my back felt like it suddenly weighed fifty tons. I managed to keep myself from hitting the ground, and actually stayed fairly immobile, but the shift was enough to throw me off-balance _just_ enough for my hand to brush against Noelle's flesh.

I ripped Weld free as soon as possible after that, and flew back. Noelle's body shuddered, and I could see that something _strange_ was going on. Did she actually read my DNA? _Could_ she actually do it, or was I just too different from normal stock?

Noelle shuddered again, then spat out something the size and shape of a fetus. It plopped on the ground, twitching and spasming, then went still. Dead.

I breathed a sigh of relief at that. There wouldn't be any warped versions of me running amok, at least for now.

Of course, it still sent the Triumvirate into a full panic. Eidolon flew in low, another gravity attack charging as he moved to crush the lump of tissue Noelle had cloned. Unfortunately, it opened him up to another stream of vomit, which caught him full on. He tumbled, and I flew up to catch him, but not before Noelle had a taste of his lower body.

For a few moments, Noelle didn't make anything, not even vomit, as she backed away from us, closer to the barriers Clockblocker was erecting. Legend and Hero continued to pelt at her legs, keeping her off-balance. Briefly, I hoped that she couldn't clone parahumans with powers.

Then, she spat out a clone. This time, however, the man _wasn't_ malformed, most likely due to the time spent gestating. He rose to his feet, wiping some of the gunk off, then glared at me.

"Is that... the Chief Director?" I heard Gallant mutter, as he finished wrestling a clone to the ground.

It was. Eidolon was David Smith, Chief Director of the PRT.

That.. that wasn't right. The whole point of the PRT was that parahumans couldn't run the show and dictate terms that heavily favored them over non-powered people, and the most powerful member of the Protectorate was in charge?

The real Eidolon lunged at the clone, only for his doppelganger to flicker and disappear. He'd used a teleporting power to get away, and could be halfway across the world for all I knew.

I needed to find him, and _fast_. But the longer I spent hunting for him, the more havoc Noelle could wreak. Either choice I made could potentially cost lives; which one could I even take?

 _I'll help handle her._

Time seemed to slow as the words echoed through my mind. In that moment, I felt like the world had gone static, frozen in time.

 _J'onn?_

 _Yes,_ came his reply. _I'll help contain Noelle, and try to see if I can calm her mind. If not, I can just restrain her- I have no DNA for her to duplicate. Dragon and Armsmaster are en route; I think if we calm her down enough, we can spirit her away before things get worse. Weld and I can try to free the remaining hostages, too._

 _You'll be revealing yourself to them if you go through with this._

 _At this point, there is too much at stake for me to care. If revealing myself is what's needed, then so be it. I was in the shadows for too long, enough as it was; it is time for me to step into the light. Now, get the clone, before he can do any more harm._

I nodded. _Got it._

Time sped up again, and I began searching for the clone. With my eyes, it wouldn't troublesome, especially considering that I knew what he looked like.

There. Hovering over Lake Tahoe, preparing an attack of some kind. He'd made himself a costume via some power, with a black hood and red mask. If anything, he seemed to be capable of charging faster than the real Eidolon, though I couldn't tell _why_.

Beneath me, I heard a familiar slithering sound as J'onn entered the battlefield, using his dragon form. That was my cue to start after the clone, then.

In a half-second, I was there. Clone-Eidolon turned to fire the attack at me, his movements sluggish as I sped up. I ducked underneath the green blast, then checked to see if it would hit any population centers. When I saw that it wouldn't, I turned back to hit the clone-

-only for him to vanish again, just as I pulled back into a fist.

Was his teleporter power reflexive, like some others? Or was he using another power to vastly increase his reaction times? Either way, it was going to be a pain to get around that.

Searching for him again, I saw that he was now back in Brockton Bay, hovering high above everyone else. Beneath him, J'onn was grappling with Noelle, _finally_ keeping her rooted in one spot, while Clockblocker began to freeze cars that Weld had erected around her. In the distance, I could see Dragon's shuttle approach, carrying something like a shipping container. Legend and Hero had turned their attention to the clones, and were making short work of them.

At least Noelle was taken care of. Now, I just needed to get the Clone-Eidolon before he could ruin the group's efforts. I needed to think of a way to get him, to circumvent his teleportation power.

" _We're monsters, you know,_ " the clone suddenly said. His voice was carried by an unknown power, making it loud enough for everyone on the street to hear. " _We sold powers, telling ourselves it was to fight the Endbringers, but we made monsters_."

I paused at that. It had to be a trick, some kind of psychological warfare; I needed to shut him up. I flew at him, causing him to teleport away again, but his voice remained.

" _We made monsters like Shatterbird, and the Siberian, but we also made others. The Case 53s. They're our rejects, results of failed experiments after we took people from other worlds and gave them untested powers. We took their memories, and cast them aside like garbage._ "

Weld stopped, eyes trained on the sky, face wracked with what could only be called pain. Even if wasn't true, it still had to hurt.

" _The 'Green Dragon', that_ thing _helping you, is actually from outer space, just like the Kryptonian. We've been trying to kill or contain it for years, just because it had the decency to try and stop our operations. When it got out of hand, we just took more people from other Earths._ "

That was enough. This had to end, _now._

Letting the heat build up behind my eyes, I located the clone in Greenland, then took aim. Light was fast, too fast for even powers like his to react; there was no way he'd be able to teleport away unscathed. Firing my heat-vision, I kept it at a low enough threshold to just excite his pain receptors, like how some riot control weapons worked.

Sure enough, Clone-Eidolon doubled over in pain, hissing out in pain through gritted teeth. His power kicked in, teleporting him away, but I swiftly found him again and resumed with my attack. In response, he erected a force-field, using another power-

-and gave up teleportation in the process.

It was over in a heartbeat. I shattered his field and knocked him out in the same blow, then carried him back to Brockton Bay.

As I descended, however, and saw the quiet that had fallen, I knew that things weren't over yet.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **7.05**

The street was quiet when I finally landed with the clone in tow. Noelle's eyes were glazed over, but she'd stopped fighting against the others; she appeared to be in an induced state of calm. Dragon was unfolding the container, and preparing the equipment to move her with, but everyone else had stopped. Some were staring at J'onn, while others were focused on the Triumvirate.

Legend flew down to greet me. The blood had drained from his face, and his countenance was one of absolute horror. What the clone had said must've gotten to him, deeply, and I suddenly wondered if there was more truth to it than I'd originally suspected.

If that was the case... it was too horrifying to think about.

"We'll-" Legend paused to wet his lips. "We'll have the PRT take the clones into custody. It's... it's going to be a legal nightmare to sort it all out, but we can manage."

I didn't reply. I simply lowered the unconscious clone to the ground, then turned to look at Eidolon. His arms were folded across his chest as he stared back down at me, and I could tell he was apprehensive about the situation.

"You're not going to actually trust it, are you?" he suddenly asked, voice calm. "I can tell you're thinking it over, but there's no real need to. Everything the clone said was a lie, meant to disorganize us."

"I'm not sure." I pointed in J'onn's direction, making sure everyone could hear my voice. "Let's ask _him_."

"What?" Eidolon blinked a few times behind his mask, then turned to see that everyone's attention was now focused on the sixty-foot-long serpent in their midst.

 _Taylor..._ J'onn began.

 _No more hiding, J'onn. When they see that I trust you, they'll trust you too._

J'onn recoiled slightly under their gaze, then straightened. He glanced at everyone gathered in the street, and began to change. He shrank down in size, the scales and claws sinking back under his skin, and his legs formed out of the remains of his tail. In the span of a few moments, he returned to his normal form, which still towered over everyone present.

"What," I heard Clockblocker mutter.

Gasps and murmurs ran through the crowd, and I could hear their heart rates spike. J'onn stared at me, as if he was studying my appearance.

Then, he changed again.

He shrank to the height of a man, and his proportions became less alien as his shoulders narrowed and his hips widened. His three-fingered hands grew two extra digits, then molded themselves to be more human. His flesh continued to mold itself, until most of it looked exactly like that of a man's, albeit green and muscular. A blue cape materialized itself, as did a matching pair of trunks and boots. Red bandoliers criss-crossed themselves over his chest, and a collar popped up from his cape.

His face was last to change. His head became less elongated, though it still retained most of its shape, and he grew a nose and mouth. It was enough to maintain his alien appearance, without being terrifying, and something told me he took inspiration from my own uniform. His eyes had even take a more human shape, even if they retained that same faint orange glow, devoid of pupil or iris.

"Hello," he said. His voice had changed, deeper and more sonorous. "My name is J'onn J'onzz. I am from the planet you call Mars."

Silence. Even the Triumvirate had fallen silent, eyes locked on the Martian in their midst. The only one who hadn't stopped was Dragon; she was still loading the now-tranquil Noelle into the container, while another suit listened in on J'onn's words. All of us were hinging on what he said next, and we were all afraid of what he'd say.

"Everything that the clone said... is true. Hero and Eidolon are the head of a group of power-brokers, one with a wide influence. They sold powers to many, after testing prior mixes on those too weak or close to death to argue against it. There are many heroes -and villains- who owe their powers to that organization. They were lied to about their powers' origins, and told that they were to counteract the rising number of villains in the world."

J'onn paused before continuing, as if he was in deep thought. "Eidolon installed himself as the head of the PRT, and thus was able to exert his control over some of the most powerful capes in the world. After all, many members of the Protectorate were sold powers, and that meant they'd have to owe him and Hero favors. They told themselves they were trying to save the world from the Endbringers, but they sought power, deep down."

It was true, then. The Protectorate; two thirds of the Triumvirate, and lord-knew how many others, were all implicated in a great sham. A farce. I didn't want to believe it, but I had to.

Weld glared at Hero and Eidolon, pain and rage and a hundred other feelings vying for control. He clenched his fists, and I had a feeling he'd be crying if he was capable of it. It looked as if he was trying to say something, but couldn't muster the strength to speak.

There was a _crack_ , and Eidolon disappeared in a flash of light, taking Hero in tow. Legend stared at where they had been a moment ago, and I could see the pain on his face. I wasn't even a member of the Protectorate, and even I felt betrayed; I couldn't imagine how he was feeling. The few capes there, as well as the PRT officers putting the clones in custody, began to talk amongst themselves, speaking in hushed tones. As far as they were concerned, the two capes' guilt was decided in that moment.

I was at Weld's side in a flash. He stared into my eyes, and I put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Part of me wanted to hold him tight, to whisper in his ear and be the comfort that I could be, but I couldn't. Not here, where it could put a target on his back. Instead, I had to act as a teammate, and not his girlfriend.

"Fuck," Clockblocker muttered. " _Fuck_. This is just way too much right now. I mean, I need to process all these bombshells. Martians vs corrupt Protectorate. That sounds like the worst B-movie _ever_."

"I think we all need to process this," J'onn said, floating our way. "But first, there's still a matter at hand."

I glanced at Noelle. She was fully loaded onto the container, and Dragon was closing the walls around her. She was still rather tranquil, but I had a feeling it wouldn't last.

"I'll carry her to the Arctic base," I said. "There's a lot of rooms there, big enough to fit someone her size with plenty of space, and we could set up a place for her to stay in while we try to find a cure."

"I'm coming with you," Weld said, voice hoarse. "They'll be calling us in for a debriefing, but I'm not going. As far as I'm concerned, I'm out of the Wards."

"Ditto," Clockblocker quipped. "Well, the whole 'fuck this I'm out' part; I don't think I have the key to your giant alien ice space house. In the North Pole."

I shook my head. "No, you're coming, too. We might need to erect some makeshift barriers in case things get out of hand, and you're the king at that."

Clockblocker's eyes widened. "For real? I-I get to see your cool space house?"

"Not like there's much in it," I said, shrugging. "Dragon and Armsmaster have a small lab, but that's about it at the moment."

"Speaking of," Dragon began, "I think I'll reconsider my honorary status in the Protectorate, after what I've just learned."

"I might, too," Armsmaster added, walking up from the shuttle Dragon had brought. "My leadership status will make a legal hassle of it, but I don't think I want to be thrown in the same lot as Hero and Eidolon, now that everything's gotten out."

Dragon turned. " _If_ everything gets out. There's a good chance that they'll be able to censor the information, if they have that much influence."

"Unless I speak out," I said.

They all glanced my way. I took a deep breath, then continued.

"They hold a lot of reputation behind them, but I'm the one who killed Leviathan. If I go public with what just happened, if I let the world know... they'll believe me, no matter what Hero and Eidolon say."

"You can have my word, too," another voice said.

I turned to see Legend fly down. The others tensed, save for J'onn and I; they were suspicious of him as well. I could understand it, even if I didn't like it. There was no way Legend could've faked that anguish on his face, or the flurry of neural activity as the horror settled in.

"We can trust him," J'onn said.

"How can you be sure?" Armsmaster asked.

"He's a mind-reader," I said. "He knows those kinds of things."

"Ah," Armsmaster said. It was almost comical, how casually he'd accepted that.

I turned to Legend. "You'd be willing to speak out against them? I know they're your colleagues."

"They're my _friends_ ," Legend replied. "I've known them for more than twenty years. I trusted them with my identity, and they trusted me with theirs. I thought I knew them, but if they've been doing this... this _horrible_ brokering game, making the Case 53s... then I would never forgive myself if I stayed silent."

"I appreciate it," I said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

"Pray you don't have to." He glanced Noelle's way. "You think you can cure her?"

"If anyone can, then it would be me."

"I hope so; I can't imagine how terrible it must be for her, to have to worry about losing control and hurting others."

Weld stepped up at that, a little calmer from earlier. "Are you leaving the Protectorate, too?"

That had to hurt for Weld, having to ask one of the most beloved heroes if he was going to stay implicated in the tragedies, the _horrors_ , inflicted on countless Case 53s. Not only was Weld one of them, but he spoke fondly of his few friends, all of whom were also 'monstrous' capes.

"I'm not sure," Legend admitted, voice strained. "It's all a mess right now, and I have no idea how the pieces will settle. If the Protectorate is inherently broken, then we might have to tear the whole thing down, like when you have a carpenter ant infestation. And if that's the case, then there could be real trouble. We respond to almost all parahuman related crime in the country; who'd take up that challenge?"

I looked at the rest. J'onn, Weld, Dennis, Dragon, and Armsmaster. They'd worked together to contain Noelle, and they'd all fought against Leviathan, all maintaining a good synergy, even if they had rarely worked together. In one way or another, I all could trust them. If not with everything, then with something.

"I think we'll work something out," I said. "But first, we need to handle the immediate issues. What happened to the failed clone of me that Noelle spat out?"

Weld raised his head. "I saw Eidolon blast it with some weird-looking beam. It vaporized in a heartbeat."

"Well, at least we don't have to worry about that," Clockblocker added, trying to sound cheerful.

Armsmaster coughed. "What about the Eidolon clone?"

"No clue," Legend said. "We could keep him tranquilized, and maybe put him in the Birdcage. It all depends on how well we can contain him."

"We'll tackle that hitch when it comes," I said.

With that, I grabbed the container Noelle was in. It wasn't hard to keep it balanced, but I wondered if the flight might agitate her.

"Let's bring her to the base. After that... I think we're going to have a _long_ talk about the last fifteen minutes."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **7.06**

By the time I prepared the enclosure and had Nolle scooted inside, she was beginning to regain her senses. Her brain activity was returning to normal, or what constituted normal for someone who had to control such monstrous urges. Hopefully, with the stress of her situation removed, she wouldn't switch to 'autopilot' any time soon.

Still, it definitely took her a few minutes to adjust. She was half a world away from where she last remembered, and her friends weren't with her; it couldn't have been an easy transition. She paced around her enclosure, almost _sniffing_ it out, establishing its boundaries.

Finally, she noticed me. The enclosure's walls were made of a transparent material tougher than steel; I'd hoped it'd make her feel less trapped.

"W-what... happened?" she asked, a rasp to her voice.

"You panicked when the PRT arrived," I replied. "You went on autopilot, and your friends moved in to defend you."

Noelle's face sank. "Did anyone... did I hurt anybody? What happened to the drivers?"

"They're safe. I managed to get them out with some help from my friends, and nobody got seriously hurt. Your friends are okay, too, but they've been taken into custody."

The relief on Noelle's face was palpable. How terrifying must it be, to constantly worry that you'd end up hurting, or even _killing_ , dozens of innocent people?

"What's going to happen to my friends?"

I sighed. "I don't really know. Be charged with crimes, put on trial- it's hard to tell at the moment. They're not in any immediate danger, though."

"They don't belong there," Noelle said. "None of us belong anywhere here."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, frowning.

Noelle hesitated for a moment, then answered. "My friends and I... well, I guess you can relate in a way. We're not from here, not from _this_ Earth. We're from Earth Aleph."

She was telling the truth, if the heat blooms across her face accounted for anything. If that was the case...

"How did you get here?" I inquired.

"I don't want to talk about it."

I offered a tight smile. "You can trust me. There's no-one else here that can hear us."

After a few moments, Noelle sighed. "Alright. My friends and I were, uh, brought here. You ever hear about that incident in Madison, with the Simurgh?"

"I read online that _something_ happened, but official reports were pretty hush-hush."

"Well, she made some weird tinker machine, and it brought a chunk of _my_ Madison, the one in Aleph, to this Earth. I got hurt pretty badly, and in the whole mess we found vials."

"That could give powers?" I asked.

Noelle blinked. "How did you-"

"A lot happened while you were on autopilot," I replied. "But we can talk about that later."

"Okay." Noelle took a deep breath, then continued. "I didn't want to drink one at first. I got cold feet. But I guess the Simurgh did something, messed with my head, and I compromised with my friends, since they were hoping it could heal me. I ended up drinking half a vial, and then... I became this. It happened slowly; I didn't become like this overnight, but it was quick enough."

A pause. Noelle shuffled a little way from the wall, then began to look around her. Her eyes seemed to drink in everything she saw, and I could notice the slightest hints of awe in her face.

"I can't believe I'm in an alien base," she murmured.

"It's not really a base," I said. "It's more like... a museum. A library; a lab; a memorial. It's many things, but I never really felt 'base' was one of them."

Another pause, longer than before.

"Do you think you'll actually be able to cure me?" Noelle asked.

I spread my hands wide, gesturing to the everything around us. "Krypton was the most advanced planet in the galaxy. The cutting edge of our science is like rocks and sticks in comparison to what they developed over the millennia. If there's any way to cure you, it'll be here."

"And if there isn't?"

"We'd tackle that if it came, but not now," I replied. "Now, I need to have a small meeting with my friends about what happened. Think you'll be okay in the meantime? If you want something to read, or maybe access to the net, just ask Brainiac."

"Brainiac?"

"Semi-sentient computer that runs this place," I replied. "Watch. Brainiac!"

A trio of lights flickered from the nearby wall. "Yes?"

"Begin preliminary analysis of subject's physiology. If she asks for certain comforts within the enclosure, grant them."

"Very well. Analysis underway."

Noelle stared at the lights, then to me. "Wow."

"Think you'll be fine for now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Think so."

I smiled. "Good. See you soon."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The others had made themselves comfortable while they waited. Dragon and Armsmaster were sitting right next to each other, excitedly discussing a tinker project, and Weld had his earphones in, head bobbing to Kryptonian music. Clockblocker looked like a kid in a candy shop, jaw hanging open as he stared at every little detail of the room, and J'onn was at the window, calmly staring out at the Arctic landscape below.

When I stepped into the room, they all stopped what they were doing and sat down at the small table I had Brainiac manufacture for us. Weld and I held hands for a moment under the table, then I straightened.

"So..." I began.

"Fuck," Clockblocker finished. "That's the only reaction I can really muster. _Fuck_. It feels like the whole world just got turned on its head. The Protectorate turns out to be run by a bunch of power brokers, half the capes in the country are probably bought, and I'm sitting _right next to a Martian_."

J'onn's brow furrowed, and he spared the Ward a glance. Clockblocker raised his hands defensively and offered a nervous chuckle.

"Just saying. I could buy that there's aliens on the other side of the galaxy, but a _Martian_? As in, from the actual Mars? That's like something from a B-movie."

"Never change, Dennis," Weld muttered.

Clockblocker snapped his head in our direction. "Dude!"

"We _all_ know your secret identity already," J'onn interjected. "Though, perhaps we should all clear the air on that matter. Those who have identities, anyway."

Armsmaster huffed. "Are you serious?"

"We need to all trust each other, especially in the wake of what just happened," J'onn replied. "I might be biased, since I already know everyone's identities, so I'll start with mine."

To prove the point, he changed back to John Jones. Everyone, save for me, jumped back a little as the realization hit them.

Weld's eyes widened. "Director?"

"Good god," Armsmaster muttered.

"I had a Martian for a boss?!" Clockblocker exclaimed.

J'onn returned to his previous form, then continued. "Now you know who I am when I'm trying to be discreet. I know some of you are hesitant to reveal your identities; some of us don't know each other very well. But we _have_ to trust each other."

"He's right," I said.

They all turned my way. I sighed, then continued.

"The Protectorate is pretty much done for. When the people learn the truth, they're not going to be happy. They're going to be even more suspicious of capes, since the entire point of the PRT was negated by Eidolon. And maybe they _should_ be concerned. How many of the heroes in the Protectorate have been bought, even if reluctantly? Even the good ones, who _wanted_ to be heroes, might be coerced into doing favors out of fear for themselves or their loved ones."

"Admittedly, that's a good point," Armsmaster said. "As the Chief Director, Eidolon knows _all_ of the Protectorate heroes' identities. And I'd imagine it'd be easy for someone as powerful as him to strong-arm people."

I nodded. "And the thing is, the Protectorate, even if it was corrupt, did some good. It handled villains, prevented them from getting too out of hand. It organized with other countries for Endbringer attacks, and did a lot of relief efforts. Now that it's pretty much finished, who's going to take up that mantle? Who's going to help protect that many people, all over the country? Or even the _world_?"

"You?" Clockblocker offered. "To be honest, you're already kinda doing that."

"I can't be in two places at once. One person can't protect the entire world like a team can. Unless we want the villains to step over their old bounds, and relief efforts to get a _lot_ harder for the people affected, then we have to do it as a group. A team."

I took a deep breath, then pressed on. "We need to trust each other if we're going to do that. So, I'll go next."

"What?" Clockblocker asked. "Y-you're actually trusting me with your secret identity?"

"I've known yours for, like, a month. It's only fair I return the favor, though I'm surprised you haven't figured it out."

I pulled my hair back a little, then grabbed my glasses from my utility belt. Putting them on, I resumed my slouch, and raised my voice as I spoke.

"It's me, Taylor Hebert. You know, Weld's girlfriend? Your _classmate_?"

Armsmaster's brow furrowed. "I have no idea who you are."

Clockblocker, on the other hand, looked as though his eyes were about to explode out of his head. He opened his mouth, as if to speak, then closed it again. He repeated the motion five times, then finally managed to say something.

"Has to be a prank. _Has_ to be. No way... no freaking way you're actually _her_... I ate lunch with Superwoman. I'm dating her best friend?! Does not compute!"

"Dennis, calm down," Weld said.

Clockblocker shot him a glance. "Calm down? Calm down?! I've been cheating off of the greatest hero of all time in Algebra class!"

"And I really wish you wouldn't," I said. "If you want, J'onn could wipe your memory of what happened..."

"No, no, I'm good." Clockblocker inhaled deeply, then exhaled. "I'm cool. Fine."

Weld sighed. "Well, at least we got the big one out of the way. Armsmaster, are you willing? Dragon?"

"I actually don't have an identity," Dragon said. "I'm an AI."

"Oh." Weld scratched the back of his head. "Well."

"Dropping _all_ the bombshells today," Clockblocker mumbled under his breath. "Going to take me a week to process all of this."

Armsmaster sighed. "Know what? Fuck it."

He pulled off his helmet, revealing a man in his late twenties or early thirties, with pale skin and hard features. "Colin Wallis. Half of you probably knew already, and at this point I'm finding it hard to care."

"We _do_ make for an odd group," Dragon mused. "A posthuman alien, with emphasis on post, that's the last of her kind. A Martian. An AI; a Case 53, and two parahumans."

"And we're the only ones we can all trust for the moment," J'onn added. "For now, it's just us."

Clockblocker chuckled. "Maybe that's what we should call ourselves. Here to save the day, it's Just Us!"

"Huh," I said. "That kinda gives me an idea for the name of our group. We need a good name when we announce ourselves to the world as a team. Which we are, right?"

They all nodded.

"So, what are we going to call ourselves?" Dragon asked.

"I like the Superfriends," Clockblocker offered. "Or Team Super. Or the Super Six. Team Action Dynamite?"

I gave a small laugh. "No, that wouldn't work. We need..."

A broad smile grew across my face when I finally came up with an idea.

"I was thinking more like... a Justice League."

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Seven, Part II: Strange Visitor**_


	22. Arc 8, Part I

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 **Topic: Power Brokering Conspiracy Exposed During Fight in Brockton Bay**  
 **In: Boards ► World ► Main ►**  
 **SpiralAK** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted On Oct 12th 2010:  
Link is **here**. And before everyone goes accusing me, **here** **are** **more** **links** , from CNN and other "official" news sources.

 **(Showing page 87 of 87)**

► **Chaosfaith**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
So... what happened, exactly? Hard to tell from the articles you posted.

► **TheGnat**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
From what I can tell:

*Monstrous Case 53 spotted in downtown area. Apparently can make clones of people if they touch her.  
*Superwoman approaches the Case 53, and attempts to talk her down. Unfortunately, shit hits the fan, and a rampage happens.  
*Due to the risk of an evil Superwoman clone being made, the PRT declares the Case 53, now codenamed Echidna, an S-Class threat. Triumvirate is called in, as is the BB Wards.  
*Eidolon somehow gets cloned. Superwoman pursues, and stuff gets even crazier. The Green motherfucking Dragon appears and helps subdue Echidna with help from Clockblocker, while Weld manages to free the hostages.  
*It gets crazier. Nolodie (that's what I'm calling the clone) suddenly reveals that Hero and Eidolon are part of some power-hungry conspiracy that sold powers to people under the pretense of making more heroes to combat Endbringers and villains. As it turned out, the Case 53's are rejects that had bad doses and wiped memories.  
*It gets even crazier. The Green Dragon suddenly turns out to be a goddamn Martian, and it reveals that the clone was telling the truth. If that wasn't damning enough, Eidolon and Hero suddenly disappear, and haven't been spotted since. Superwoman takes the subdued Echidna away, and that was that.

► **Saskatchew**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Jesus Christ

So, what does this mean for, well, everything? Is there suddenly going to be a cape pogrom or soemthing?

► **Good Ship Morpheus**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
 _Martians_?! Are you fucking serious?! We actually have _two_ separate species of alien living on our planet?!

► **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Saskatchew: A bit much, no? Personally, I think the Protectorate might actually dissolve, or at least lose a lot of members over this whole clusterfuck. Kinda scary for the people involved that had no idea of what was going on. Are they going to lose their jobs?

► **ThereIsNoSpoon** (Verified PRT Agent)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Most likely. I'm actually tendering my resignation tomorrow. I believe a lot of agents and capes are doing the same.

► **BadSamurai**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
I now have questions. About everything.

► **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
So far, it seems that the total list of capes that have officially resigned from the Protectorate are:

Dispatch  
Myrddin  
Hunch  
Gentle Giant  
Matroyshka  
Armsmaster  
Triumph  
Weld  
Clockblocker  
Dragon (only an honorary member, but she apparently gave that up)  
Gully  
Pankration

Mind you, this is just the first day or so. Gonna be more.

EDIT: Legend has left. Good god this is getting even more serious than I thought

EDIT 2: Let's move this discussion to another thread.

► **Kriketz**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
All I'm wondering is: what's Superwoman thinking about this?

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 85, 86, 87**

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* * *

 **Topic: Green Dragon is a Martian**  
 **In: Boards ► Worldwide ► Main**  
 **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted On Oct 12th 2010:  
Links here, here, here, and here.

Yep. The Green Dragon is actually a fucking Martian. As in, from the planet Mars.

 **(Showing page 148 of 149)**

► **Answer Key**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Now there's two aliens on our itty bitty planet? Makes no sense.

Hell, the past few weeks have been nothing but upsets. Leviathan gets killed with minimal casualties on the defending side. Said Endbringer's killer then reveals that we are not alone, and becomes the world's greatest hero. Then, the Green Dragon turns out to be _another_ alien, and a massive conspiracy in the very roots of the Protectorate is exposed.

I'm starting to get a bit numb to it.

► **Lo A Quest**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
What do we know about the Martian, anyway?

► **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Lemme see:

*Apparently, his real name sounds like the French pronunciation of Jean and Jones. Jean Jones or something.  
*Can shapeshift, apparently.  
*Strong enough to give Leviathan a beating.  
*Psychic? Probably has some kind of Thinker power; he was able to calm Echidna down.  
*Apparently has been opposing Hero and Eidolon since the very beginning.

All we really know for now.

► **Logs**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
He seems to speak English pretty well. Part of his Martian nature, or has he been here for a while? D:

► **SpiralAK** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
You raise a pretty good point. We have no idea how long this Martian's been on Earth. Maybe a few years, maybe centuries. No way of telling.

► **SenorEel**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
We could just ask him...

► **Feychick**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Like he'd actually respond. Probably went back into hiding. It's actually making me a bit paranoid: he could be anybody, or maybe even anything. He could be my neighbor, or my mailman, or even a rock.

► **Groupies**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
How do we know he's actually a Martian? All we have is his word for it. Maybe he's just a Case 53 making up some elaborate backstory.

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
Superwoman trusts him. Good enough for me.

► **QwertyD**  
Replied On Oct 12th 2010:  
That brings another thing up: the Fermi Paradox.

The Martian is probably the last of his kind, unless there are actually millions of them hiding out here. And Superwoman is the last of her kind as well. Krypton and Mars, two worlds that have made contact with us in some way or another, and both are dead.

Doesn't that scare anyone?

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 146, 147, 148**

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"It's all fucked, isn't it?" Cooper muttered, crumpling another beer can. "And I thought that clone was just talking the piss when it said all that."

"Made sense to me," Spoon said, putting away his phone. Grabbing a beer of his own, he moved closer to the bonfire. "Conspiracies happened all the time in comic books."

"Life isn't a comic book, Spoon," Wells retorted, leaning back in his lawn chair.

"Oh? Then why do we have people in spandex flyin' around and shooting lasers out their arses?"

"And aliens," Cooper added. "Don't forget about the aliens."

Spoon chuckled. "And the other dimensions, and giant monsters."

"Yeah, but there's one thing comics have that we don't," Wells said.

"And what's that?"

Wells drained his can. "Happy endings."

Cooper shrugged. "Can't be all that bad, right? Endbringer down, dozens of seemingly unstoppable villains stopped... I think there's a ray of hope."

"And the biggest, most well-equipped team on the planet is being dismantled piece-by-piece," Wells said. "The PRT's fucked, and with it comes something that coordinated responses against some of the nastiest things in the world. How many villains are going to try and get appeals, now that everything's happened? How many are going to _win_?"

"More personally, we're going to have to get new jobs," Spoon added.

The three of them fell silent for a moment. It was nighttime already, and it was getting colder; they could see their breaths without a problem. The fire crackled, illuminating Cooper's yard in flickers.

"Well, I'll probably get a job at the police department," Cooper said. "It's what I'm good at, and something tells me they're going to need former PRT guys like us."

"Sounds solid." Wells grabbed for another can and opened it with a hiss. "Will they actually hire, though? This whole thing might put a bad mark on us."

"We didn't know shite about the whole thing!" Spoon protested. "Fuck, I might have to move back home."

Cooper sighed. "It's gonna be a legal clusterfuck, now that I'm thinking about it. And even when the smoke clears, who's gonna hire us?"

"I might have a solution," a voice said from above them.

At once, they looked up to see Superwoman descend. She landed right by the fire, and offered a small smile to them. The cold wind blew against her hair and cape, but did nothing else. It was almost unsettling, to see someone so unaffected by her environment; wryly, Spoon realized that she'd look the same if she was at the bottom of the ocean, or on the surface of the Sun.

Cooper sat upright, eyes wide. "Fuck me."

Wells stood up to offer a handshake. "Surprised to see you here, miss."

Spoon, for his part, simply shrugged and finished his beer.

Superwoman took Wells's hand and shook firmly. "Glad to see you again. I remembered the three of you posed for a picture with me."

"You actually remember that?" Spoon asked.

"Yep. If I recall, you were the one who did the bunny ears."

Spoon chuckled. "Made my week. But something tells me you're not here for small talk."

Superwoman sighed. "No, I'm not. I overheard your conversation, and I know that the three of you are good people. I know that the country's going to be afraid now that the PRT is crumbling, which is why I want to alleviate their fears."

"So, what? You're gonna give a few speeches, tell them to keep a stiff upper lip?" Cooper asked.

"No. I'm forming a team of my own, one that'll take up the burden that the Protectorate used to. And I would like you three to be a part of it."

Spoon nearly choked on his beer. "What?"

"The team's going to be independent," Superwoman continued. "No government authority, since that could be easily twisted into the wrong way, as we've seen. It's going to operate like me: on a global scale, without the petty politics and bureacracies getting in the way. But, I also want the world to know that they have a _voice_ on the matter. There needs to be a bridge between us and the rest of the world."

"And you want _us_ to be that bridge?" Wells asked.

"In a word? Yes." Superwoman smiled as she continued. "We're planning on setting up offices in capitols of each country that wants one, and you could set up the office in Washington."

Spoon raised his hand. "Quick question: how the hell are we going to get the money to buy a building? How are we going to get paid?"

Superwoman simply replied by plucking a hot coal from the fire. Pursing her lips, she blew on it, cooling it back down to normal, then squeezed it in her palm. When she opened her hand, a diamond had taken the coal's place.

"That answer your question?" Superwoman asked. "This one's too impure, but I could easily make better ones with graphite. I could even cut them, too, which increases the value."

Cooper raised his eyebrows. "Well... that handles that."

"Does that mean you're willing to work for the team?"

Cooper glanced at the others. "Guys?"

"I'm game," Wells said.

Spoon nodded. "Count me in."

"Alright then," Cooper said. "We're in."

Superwoman smiled. "Welcome to the Justice League."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **8.02**

Colin stared at the fabric in his hands. It felt almost like silk, but even lighter, yet it didn't feel fragile. When he clenched his hands, there were no crinkles or creases left in the cloth; the properties of the fabric were astounding. In his peripheral vision, he could see Dennis doing the same, albeit with more enthusiasm.

"You're giving us Kryptonian suits?" he asked.

Taylor nodded. "Of course. The material's lightweight, virtually indestructible, and the nanotech allows you to input a number of functions. It's also _really_ comfortable; I feel like I'm wearing a second skin instead of a uniform."

"I get to wear an alien costume?" Dennis said, excitedly. "Sweet!"

"If you want, I could have Brainiac fabricate a copy of your old costume, but with that material. The helmet and armor plates should be able to protect you from even a fifty caliber rifle."

"Where does the energy get transmitted?" Colin asked.

"Radiates out as heat. Pretty efficient, but not a hundred percent; you'd still be vulnerable to _really_ big hits."

Colin looked down at the cloth again. "I could use some Kryptonian materials for my power armor; that would increase it's damage resistance by an absurd degree, and I'd imagine the moving parts wouldn't wear down as quickly. If we're going to present ourselves as the League in a week, I need to appear my best."

Taylor coughed nervously, scratching the back of her head. "That, uh, that kinda reminds me..."

"What? Something wrong?"

"There's... kinda a legal battle going on with the Protectorate."

Dennis glanced up. "Wait, seriously? How come I didn't know about this?"

"They don't really want the publicity," Taylor replied. "Hasn't officially reached court yet, especially since they don't know that Colin's joining a team. Dragon's been handling the discussions, and apparently J'onn used to have an identity as a lawyer."

"I thought that the whole reveal would've killed any attempts like that," Colin said. "Do they even have any legal footing?"

"Unfortunately, yeah. Sure, it's starting to fall apart, but it can still kick up a legal nightmare over the rights to your alias."

Colin straightened at that. Of _course_ ; the Protectorate owned the rights to his Armsmaster moniker, as they owned the names of any adult member. Weld and Dennis would be able to argue their way to keeping their aliases, but his was another story altogether. Considering the Protectorate's situation, he _could_ possibly win the case, especially if the Protectorate as an organization ceased to exist, but that was a big chance to take...

"I see," he said, voice low.

"It's just a name change," Taylor offered. "You don't have to change your appearance or gear."

Colin sighed. "True enough, but what good names are left?"

Dennis chuckled. "Hey, maybe you could call yourself Halbeard. Get it? Because you have a beard and hal... got it, not funny. You don't have to keep glaring like that."

"I'm sure we can think of a new name for you," Taylor said, putting up a smile. "I think Dragon's been looking over some ideas; you could talk to her about it."

"I'll look into it," Colin replied.

"Good. Now, there's an earthquake I need to attend to. We can talk it over some more when I get back."

With that, Taylor vanished, only a faint gust of wind signaling how she'd departed.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that," Dennis muttered. "Way too fast for my liking."

Colin didn't reply. Turning about, he made his way to the small lab Taylor had set up for Dragon and him, thinking.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

" _...casualties mounting in Monterry this afternoon, as another fight between cartels claim lives. Superwoman was able to apprehend those responsible and dismantled the two organizations, but not before ten people lost their lives in the crossfire. Though violent crimes have decreased since the hero's appearance, it seems that there is still a long way to go..._ "

Colin shut the TV off, then resumed work on his armor. Taylor was kind enough to lend him Kryptonian materials to work with before she headed off again, but he could see the forlorn expression on her face as she left. It must've weighed heavily on her, when she was unable to save someone; it made him glad he didn't have such a burden to carry.

That didn't mean he had no burden whatsoever.

He decided to bury himself in his work, as he'd done countless times before. It was easy to lose himself in the long hours of designing and construction, and it helped to keep his mind off things. It allowed him to get a lot of work done, though he wryly thought that progress was a good benchmark for how rough his day was.

A knock on the wall caused him to jolt upright. Turning, he saw J'onn standing in the doorway, arms folded. The Martian's cape cloaked his form, giving him an almost sinister appearance. Though, Colin considered, he could've made himself _far_ more frightening if he'd cared for it.

"Busy?" J'onn asked.

"Not too busy," he replied. "Just working on my gear."

"I heard about your name situation. Picked a new one yet?"

"Not quite yet. Been juggling a few suggestions with Dragon, but there's not a lot of good ones left that also match me. Centurion, Spartan, and Defiant are the ones we're considering right now."

"Defiant seems fitting," J'onn said. "I saw how you fought against Leviathan, even as everyone was pushed back. You're a fighter, Colin."

The Martian took a step forward and continued on. "You actually remind me of an old friend, one I made back in the 1930's, back when I was a detective in New York City. Of course, a lot of people still called it Gotham at the time."

Colin put down his screwdriver. "Oh?"

"He was a lot like you. Intelligent, driven, more than a little stubborn. Willing to do what it took, and never backed down."

"Hmph. I wonder how he would've reacted to today's situations. The world's a messed up place, even more than back then. Sure, we might have conquered a few societal problems, but entire nations have been broken and destroyed, and people can inflict even more monstrous acts on each other."

"I think there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Superwoman's shown the world that; she's given them hope again."

Colin leaned back against the workshop table. "Sure, but there are those who don't want hope. Horrible people, powered and unpowered, who only care for themselves, and don't care about the suffering they leave in their wake. Drug lords, rapists, serial killers; all scum of the earth. We can't give affect them with a message of hope."

"True," J'onn admitted. "But maybe we can give them fear."

"I don't think Taylor would be up for that," Colin said, forcing a chuckle. "She's too kind, too... ethical. She wouldn't want to inspire fear in criminals like that, since that'd involve scaring the people. We, as a team, can't do that."

"No, we can't. But you can."

Colin blinked. "What?"

"I understand that Dragon's been helping you upgrade your body for a while now. You only need twenty minutes of downtime, no?"

"Fifteen, actually."

J'onn smiled. "That gives you plenty of time to lead two identities. Trust me, you're talking to the pro on the matter. By day, you can be Defiant or Centurion or whatever name you choose, but at night, you can be... someone else."

"Someone else," Colin repeated.

J'onn shifted. His cloak turned into a trench coat, and his orange eyes became a dark brown as he assumed a human appearance. By the time he was finished, he looked almost like the stereotypical noir protagonist, fedora and all.

"In '39, I moved to the city under the alias of John Jones," he said. "It was during that time that I met the friend I mentioned earlier. He was actually a philanthropist by day; he donated to charities, and helped to clean up the city with his wealth. He fought the cause of crime in New York."

"And at night?"

"He beat criminals to a pulp with his bare hands, using theatricality and deception to strike fear into the heart of the underworld, for he knew that most criminals are a superstitious and cowardly lot. He also exposed corruption using his skills as a detective, which he in turn taught to me. He did what the police couldn't, or _wouldn't_ , do."

"A... costumed vigilante?" Colin said in disbelief. "Forty years before parahumans? I never heard of that before."

"He was good," J'onn replied. " _Very_ good. He was an urban legend to the criminal underground, but the legend faded, to the point where you'd never even find a blurb about him in textbooks."

"What happened to him?"

"A career like that takes a toll on the body. One day, after saving a young girl from a kidnapping, his heart just gave out. But his work was done; he left the city a better place than how he'd found it."

Colin glanced at his armor. It wouldn't require that much tweaking to prepare it for stealth missions, and the Kryptonian materials could help with that immensely.

"You think I could revive the legend, don't you?"

"I _know_ you can, Colin. And with the resources you now have, you could extend your reach. But are you willing? Will you take up his mantle, and continue his work?"

Colin thought back to what he'd seen just a few minutes ago, and in that moment, he made his decision.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Walking at night always made her nervous, and that was even before she decided to move to Queens.

To make matters even worse, the moon wasn't even up. Cynthia shivered and pulled her arms tighter around herself as she quickened her pace. Just a few more minutes, and she'd be safe in her apartment. She hadn't experienced trouble yet, aside from a few creepy stares on the subway.

Unfortunately, it seemed that her luck had run out.

They came around an alley corner, joking amongst themselves, then stopped when they saw her. Four men, all rugged looking and tattooed. Cynthia gulped nervously, then turned around. It'd only be a short delay to walk around the block, and it'd be worth it if she could avoid them.

As soon as she turned around, however, they decided to make a move. One of them wrapped his hand around her mouth, stifling the scream that half-formed in her throat, then began to pull her into the alleyway. Behind her, the others began to make jeers, and Cynthia's heart began to pound as she realized what was going to happen next.

Suddenly, the man holding her was gone, a scream trailing behind him as he was pulled up. Cynthia took that opportunity to turn around, eyes wide. The remaining men backed away from her, looks of shock on their faces as they glanced up.

"Did you see tha-" one of them began.

He didn't finish. A pellet dropped in their midst, and white smoke engulfed them. Backing away, Cynthia heard a flutter, almost like great wings, as _something_ descended into the ever-growing cloud like a bat out of hell.

That was when the screaming started. The figure moved about, only a silhouette as it took down two men with well-aimed strikes. The last one, farther from the smoke, pulled out a revolver, only for a shuriken-like blade to imbed itself in his hand. Screaming, he turned to run, only for a cord to wrap around his ankles.

Cynthia watched as the figure emerged from the smoke. It looked almost like a man in armor, with great horns on his head, obscured by a scalloped black cape that gave him the appearance of having wings. Glowing white eyes glanced at her, then the man pulled the thug back into the smoke, paying no heed to the screams.

It all happened in less than a minute, and when the smoke cleared, the man was gone. Cynthia stared at the unconscious thugs on the ground, then finally found the strength to pull out her cellphone.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Colin watched from a rooftop as the police arrived, then gave a satisfied nod. The suit had performed better than expected, though the helmet still had a few kinks to work out. For a quick job, however, it was quite effective.

The police scanner in his helmet activated, and he listened in. The night was still young, and he still had a lot of work to do. There was also the matter of preparing his _other_ suit, but that could wait for a while longer.

With that in mind, the Batman went on the move.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **8.03**

It wasn't that hard to find it. Hell, it was the biggest thing for miles around; the structure made the Pyramids look downright tiny in comparison, and its crystalline structure was definitely out of place with its surroundings. It looked ephemerally beautiful from a distance, like a heavenly citadel hewn from light, and he spent a few moments admiring its beauty before reminding himself of why he was there.

At this latitude, the frozen landscape was in perpetual twilight, a faint blue light on everything except the Fortress. The sun was below the horizon this time of year, and wouldn't come up until March, but he could still see fine. One of the less-known aspects of his power was enhanced eyesight; it was virtually a necessity for a flyer like him.

The wind was absolutely frigid, but he barely felt it through his suit; his power insulated him from such things while he was flying. He _did_ feel it, however, when he began to slow down and thereby lessen the effects of his power. It helped that the structure was blocking most of the wind as he came in a low sweep, though he still got some snow in his eyes.

Finally, he touched down on the thick ice right by the fortress From the ground, it seemed even _bigger_ , but in a different way. It's sheer size boggled the imagination; his mind had to accept it as a mountain, or another part of the landscape, not something artificial. The human psyche seemed to have an aversion to any huge artificial objects, whether it be the order of it all, or just the subconscious acknowledgement that it was not natural.

He took a tentative step closer, then ran a hand over the crystalline wall. It was cool to the touch, and his hand skittered over it, like it was made of slippery glass. The marvels of a world long dead, that had accomplished miracles in its life...

"Legend?"

He turned to see that Superwoman was suddenly right next to him, a confused look on her face. Her cape fluttered in the wind as she folded her arms, and Legend noted the authority she now carried with her. No longer was she just the excited young hero making a start; she was the Endslayer, champion to the entire human race. When she spoke, the world _listened_.

Not bad for someone who still didn't have a driver's license.

"I was actually looking for you, Superwoman," Legend said. "I was hoping we could talk."

"About what?"

"About me joining this team that you're starting up."

Her eyes widened. "How did you-"

"You've been recruiting a few PRT agents to help manage relations between you and the world proper. I decided to ask around, and got an answer, about how you were planning on unveiling some 'team' by tomorrow."

Superwoman scratched her chin. "Well, come in then, before you catch a cold. The door's this way."

She turned around, and he followed as they went to a rather innocuous-looking door for such a building. There was even a welcome mat laid out on the first step, which Taylor pulled up to reveal a small black key.

"We used to have a few entrances all around," Superwoman explained as she worked the lock. "But, when we decided to make the team, I closed all but one for security reasons."

"Isn't a key a bit... insecure?" Legend asked.

Superwoman smiled, then put the key back down. "Give it a try."

After a few moments, Legend crouched down and cautiously reached out to touch the key. When nothing happened, he tried to wrap his fingers around it, but it refused to budge. Opting to instead pinch his fingers on each side, he pulled up with a grunt, only to nearly throw out his back with the effort.

"What is it?" he grunted. "Tinker tech? Simple electromagnet?"

"Just really heavy," Superwoman replied. "It's made of black dwarf matter, one of the densest materials in the known universe. That key there weighs five-thousand tons."

She leaned down, and plucked the key like it was just normal. Chuckling, she flicked it into the air like a coin, then caught it.

"I'm one of the few beings on the entire planet who can lift this key, and they still have to work the lock in a specific manner. There's other security features, but they take a while to get through. This lets me get in and out in a jiffy."

Working the lock again, she opened the door, then gestured for Legend to follow her inside. When he stepped inside, she shut the door behind him, and it locked again with a click.

"Where did you even get the material for that?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

Superwoman grinned. "I carved it from the remains of Leviathan's core. I donated the rest to CERN so they could study it."

"At least it'll do _some_ good there, huh?"

"Guess so. Now, the others are this way."

They gently floated down the vast hallways of the Fortress. There were massive rooms and enclosures all around him, most of them empty. The few that were full, however, had strange and amazing things within. Machinery, vials, even small terrariums and aquariums. It looked all like something from a science fiction story, or perhaps a man's vision of the far future.

"What's all of this?" he asked.

"This isn't just going to be our base," Superwoman replied. "It's far more than just that. It's a museum, a library, a zoo, a laboratory, and tons of other things."

"That so? Anything in particular yet?"

"Well, I've been reproducing some small pieces of Kryptonian technology to see if any of it could safely improve society, and I also have DNA samples of endangered species. You see those books over there?"

"Yes."

"I've been transcribing Kryptonian works of fiction, as well as some non-fiction. They're being translated into thousands of different languages, and I'm fabricating countless copies. The material's eco-friendly, of course, and much stronger than normal paper. They won't have to be replaced for a while, and it'd be hard to deliberately destroy or deface them."

"What for?"

Superwoman gave him a wide smile. "I'm going to donate them to every last library on Earth. I'm also posting them online, but only a fraction of the globe has access to the internet. Libraries, on the other hand, can be accessed by a lot more."

Legend sniffed. "Not even that's for everyone."

"For now, anyway, but I hope to change that." Superwoman spread her hands wide, gesturing to all the marvels around her. "The League's not just going to fight crimes and stop supervillains or Endbringers. We're going to help humanity help itself, and stand with them side-by-side to the future."

Her face fell. "Of course, there's still some trouble with that."

"How so?"

Superwoman pointed to a terrarium. "That's some life from Socotra Island, near Yemen. One of the most biodiverse islands in the world, so I took some samples from there, just in case something happened. I've been taking samples from other places as well; one day, with how my powers and tech are developing, I could take samples from the planets listed in the Kryptonian archives."

"What does that have to do with what you were saying before?"

"Well, I took them here without giving them a choice. I'm doing it for their own good, and the life there are plants and animals; they _can't_ really decide for themselves. But I'm scared that, some day, I'm going to blur the line. That I'm not going to give the _world_ a choice in what I do for its own good. I'm scared that I'm going to put the whole world in a bottle."

"I don't think it'll come to that," Legend offered.

"I hope not," Superwoman said. "I guess it's good you're joining; we need more connections to the rest of the world. If the majority of us reap as civilians what we sow as capes, then maybe it's for the best. Our actions as a team will affect our normal lives, and that's the way it should be."

She gestured down the hall. "Let's lighten up a bit, shall we? The others are waiting; let's go have a chat."

They quickened their speed, and were in the room in a few moments. Legend surveyed the room, and was surprised to see who else comprised the League. For one, it was a _lot_ smaller than he'd expected. Second, two of them were _kids_ , or three if you included Superwoman. Weld, he remembered, but he couldn't quite recall the other's name.

The Martian stood up and offered a hand. "Good to see you."

"Likewise," Legend said, shaking J'onn's hand. "So, do we have a full roll call here?"

"Yup," Superwoman said, coming up to his side. "You probably remember Weld over there, and Clockblocker's sitting next to him. Dragon and Defiant are sitting together, by the window."

"Defiant?" Legend asked. "I don't think I know a hero named that. Is he new?"

"I used to be called Armsmaster," the armored cape replied. "Got screwed over by lawyers, so I had to change. Good to see you again, Legend."

"Likewise. And does, uh, J'onn have an alias?"

Superwoman frowned. "Actually, I don't think we've gotten around to that. J'onn hasn't made any suggestions, and I can't think of any good ones. I guess we just thought he'd go with his name, or maybe the Green Dragon, especially with how many people know it."

"Martian Manhunter," Clockblocker muttered, not even looking up from his phone.

Everyone turned to look at him, brows furrowed. He sighed, then put his phone away.

"I was chatting with him, right? And he said that he's been a detective in a bunch of human disguises or aliases or whatever. Detectives are manhunters; they hunt after suspects. J'onn's from Mars. So, he's the Manhunter from Mars, or just Martian Manhunter. It sounds pretty cool, and it has good alliteration."

Superwoman pursed her lips. "Don't you think that's a bit too... aggressive?"

"I have to agree," Legend added. "Even... uh, back then, we didn't like names of that sort. Names that involve weapons, or actions that could be considered unsavory, are not ones we should present to the public."

"Why? Because they're 'scary'?" Clockblocker asked, making air-quotes. "It's just 'Manhunter', not Deathstalker or Bloodwind or Spine-ripper-outer. And do you have any better names?"

"Seriously, Dennis?" Weld said. "We're actually having an argument over names?"

Legend blinked at the casual mention of the Ward's real identity. Had they opened that up to each other, as a sign of trust? Did that extend to _every_ member? There were plenty of people, powerful people, that'd _kill_ for such an opportunity.

"-Alien Atlas?" Clockblocker continued. " _That's_ your suggestion, Weld? Why not give him another stupid name, like Mr. Martian?"

"I actually like Martian Manhunter," J'onn said. "There, that's final. Now, could the two of you _please_ stop arguing?"

Clockblocker and Weld glared at each other, but fell silent. Legend coughed nervously, then turned to Superwoman. She seemed to be doing her best to stifle a laugh, if the way she was flexing her jaw was any indication.

"So... I take it that this Justice League has an open identity policy?" he asked.

She nodded, finally winning out over the urge to laugh. "We all know each other's identities in this room. If you decide to join, then the same goes for you. You'll know ours, and we'll know yours. I know it's asking a lot of you, but we've all been willing."

"Are we sure we can trust him?" Weld asked.

"I quit yesterday," Legend replied. "I know you must be in a lot of distress since what happened, but I assure you I had no knowledge of that."

"He's speaking the truth," J'onn said. "I can vouch for him, if that will assuage your concerns."

Superwoman straightened. "I'll go first, then. My name's Taylor. Taylor Hebert."

A name to finally go with her face. It was almost comforting, to know that the most powerful being on Earth had a name like any other. Then, wryly, he reminded himself that many would've thought the same of him.

Legend pulled off his mask, and offered his hand. "My name's Duncan Hughes."

Taylor smiled, and shook his hand.

"Welcome to the League, Duncan. Now let's get started."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Eight, Part I: A League of Their Own**_


	23. Arc 8, Part II

**8.04**

"I hate New York," Dennis muttered, pulling his cap tighter over his head.

Duncan looked up from his newspaper and glanced over. "You know you're talking about my hometown, right?"

"Point still stands." Dennis tried to make himself more comfortable on the cold bench, then gave up with a sigh. "It's loud, the air's even worse than Brockton, and it's crowded."

"Lot's of good restaurants, and it's a meeting point for countless cultures to mesh together," came the retort. "It's a very historic city, and Central Park is nice."

It _was_ rather quiet where they were, Dennis thought. Which was good, considering just how odd a crowd they made. Colin was pacing in front of them, occasionally muttering to himself, and Weld's presence on the bench made the whole thing tilt slightly.

"Not disagreeing with you on that," he said. "I can see why a people live here. Just not me."

At the far end of the bench, Weld sighed. "I feel like you two are arguing in circles."

"We _have_ been here for at least an hour," Duncan said.

"Yeah, what gives?" Dennis asked, throwing up his hands. "You think someone faster than a speeding bullet could schedule something quick."

Colin stopped his pacing and let out a sharp laugh. "You never really did the paperwork, huh? Government bureaucracy is an utter slog, especially when a bunch of governments need to agree on something. I remember how one time I needed to get some specific grade of titanium for my suit, and it took _weeks_ , to approve the shipping."

"Yeah, but this _is_ Taylor we're talking about," Weld said. "I'd imagine they'd move pretty quickly for her."

"Relatively, of course. Don't be surprised if we have to wait another hour."

"Eugh," Dennis groaned. "This is killing me. Can we at least get a bite to eat or something?"

"We ate two hours ago," Colin said.

Dennis groaned again, and slide off the bench. When no-one blinked at his melodramatic display, he simply sighed and readjusted himself. The days were getting colder and shorter, as autumn came into full swing, and the leaves were finally changing color. He had to admit, the park looked beautiful at this time of year, with all the shades of orange and red around him, and it contrasted with the crisp blue sky peeking through the leaves.

"So..." Weld said. "Any ideas for a conversation?"

Duncan put down his newspaper again, brow furrowed. "Can't think of much, actually. There haven't been any good movies recently, and I'm not a big sports guy."

"I think I read something about a new vigilante around here," Dennis piped up. "Also prowls around in other cities, somehow. What are they calling him, again? Birdman?"

"The Owl?" Colin offered.

"No, that's a villain operating in Montreal," Duncan said. "I think Dennis is talking about that Batman they've been talking about in the news for the past few days. Always lurking in the shadows, fighting common criminals; I think he's starting to become some kind of bogeyman."

"A... bat," Weld said. "They're just fruit eaters; how's there anything scary about that?"

"I saw a flying fox at the zoo once," Dennis said. "It was actually pretty cute."

Duncan shrugged. "Eh. Ever had an infestation? My house had one, and they were pretty scary to see flapping around at night. And vampire bats suck blood."

"They don't _suck_ blood; they lap it up. Lap." Dennis wiggled his tongue for good measure. "And they're the size of mice."

"Dennis is right; it's still an odd name," Colin said. "Why would this fellow ever choose it?"

"Doesn't really matter," Duncan said. "Besides, I'm not very fond of vigilantes. Independents often cooperate with law enforcement, at the very least, but vigilantes can often make more trouble than they solve."

Colin shrugged, and continued pacing. "Boring conversation, anyway. I'm more preoccupied with how we're going to present ourselves at the announcement. Are we going to change _before_ we enter the building, or do we sneak in wearing our civilian guises? Taylor forgot to mention that."

"I just think you weren't listening. We're changing before we head in." Duncan blinked, then smiled. "Speaking of..."

The others turned to see Taylor walking towards them, bundled up in a thick coat. Dragon was walking alongside her in a humanoid model, as well as 'John'.

"Sorry about the wait," Taylor said, smiling cheerfully. "It was harder than I expected to arrange an announcement."

"Why didn't we just do what you did last time?" Dennis asked. "You got an appointment with the White House pretty quick."

"We already shot that idea down, remember? Can't show favoritism to any one government, blah blah, yadda yadda." Taylor gestured to the pathway. "Anyway, we parked the van with our stuff inside; let's get dressed."

Weld got up, causing the bench to right itself. "Finally. UN, here we come."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dennis stared up the steps to the entrance of the UN building, and let out an audible gulp.

For one thing, legions of civilians flanked each side, trying to reach over the barriers and armed guards that hemmed them in. There were plenty of adoring citizens, holding up Taylor's sigil and cheering her on, while there were also a fair share of protestors. Many of their signs were pretty vulgar, though he did find the one asking Taylor to bring Elvis home funny. Still, the idea of the crowd turning violent didn't make him any less nervous.

Of course, the world's most powerful hero was standing arm's length away from him. That had to be calming, if only a little.

"This is it," Taylor said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go."

She went first, then J'onn and Dragon followed, flanking her. Weld and Colin took each side, keeping it a balanced arrow shape, and it was finally Dennis's turn to move. He expected himself to goof up in some way as he walked up the flight of steps, perhaps trip and fall flat on his face, but miraculously he didn't. The crowd was still rather far from him, but he could hear them just fine. Countless cameras were recording the group; several were trained on him in particular.

 _That_ was food for thought. He never thought he'd see himself on national television, though he always liked to idly daydream about it. But now, the dream had become reality, and an icy pit was forming in his stomach.

Finally, they were inside, and he let out a sigh of relief. The hallway to the assembly room was empty, and they formed loose line as they walked down it. He took the time to try and relax; he had to be blowing his fears out of proportion, right?

Then he stepped into the assembly room, and he tensed up again.

He'd read about the United Nations, and seen the photos, but he never imagined that he'd actually _be_ there, in that room. The ambassadors were all trained mainly on Taylor and J'onn, but that did little to make him feel less nervous.

They reached the broad table that had been set up for them. There was a seat with his cape name on it, and he took a seat a half-second after the others did. He was glad that the crowd couldn't see his blush under the helmet.

Taylor took the podium, pausing to let some journalists take photos, then cleared her throat.

"The last few days have been a troubling time for many, I understand," she began, using the speech Dragon and Legend had helped her write. "And it should. The revelation that many parahumans, both hero and villain, have received their powers from an unethical organization, has made many of us concerned. We are concerned about the goals of such an organization. We are concerned about corruption in our midst, working against us from day one. And we are concerned about those we have trusted with our safety."

There was a few moments' pause as her words were translated. Dennis watched the group, gauging their reactions, and he realized that Taylor was likely checking the translations herself.

"I know that the parahuman organizations of many countries are under intense scrutiny, now that we all know the truth. Some have already been disbanded, while others are weakened, now that their authority is undermined. It is a perfectly understandable action, but it leaves us with another issue: where do we go from here? Who will handle the superpowered serial killers, warlords, and gangs? Who will prepare for Endbringer attacks, and drive them off? Who will help people in the wake of disasters, both natural and man-made?"

A few murmurs at that. Some of the officials were writing notes, Dennis saw, but for the most part they were focused entirely on Taylor. It made a fair bit of sense; when the most powerful person on the planet spoke, you _listened_.

"That is why I am here," Taylor said. "I am here to answer the question of where we go from here. Before you _is_ your answer. Today, I am here to announce that I have formed a team of my own, to take on whatever challenges lie in the future. We will operate on a global scale, handling emergencies regardless of what countries they are in. We will fight for _all_ of humanity, regardless of their race, or creed, or religion. It is, one might say, an extension of what I already do."

"There are many threats to the world today, and there will be more. The Endbringers destroy cities like clockwork, leaving entire nations in ruin as they struggle with the aftermath of their deadly attacks. Many nations, all former members of this organization, have been taken over by warlords, who have left _millions_ dead in their struggles for dominance. Even those nations that maintain their government, such as the ones that represent themselves today, have faced harsh trials and tribulations."

Dennis realized just how _silent_ the room had become. Taylor's voice had become authoritative, _commanding_ ; it was something he'd never seen from her. Had she been practicing with the others, or was it just her force of personality finally showing itself?

"We are here to combat these threats, and make the world a better place. We will not rest in this fight, and we hope that others will join us. Already we have hired non-powered representatives from each nation, who shall work in your capitols if you let them. They will serve as a bridge, between the people of the globe and us, and together we will agree to handle the issues that face us today. It will not be an easy task, but it is not impossible. Impossible is just a word; the head of Leviathan stands testament to that. Together, we can surpass our own limits, and enter a new era of history, free from strife and suffering."

She spread her hands wide, gesturing to Dennis and the others. "Representatives of the United Nations, I give you the Justice League."

Silence. Dennis's heart pounded against his chest as he forced himself to remain still, studying the crowd before him. How were they reacting to what Taylor said? Would they be concerned about her speech, and reject her offer? His mind began to race with the possibilities, and he had to fight the urge to just stand up and walk away from it all.

That was when the cheering began, almost deafening, and the entire assembly rose to give them a standing ovation. In that moment, he could imagine the world cheering with them, as the news zipped around the globe, reaching the eyes and ears of billions.

Suddenly, he didn't feel nervous at all.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Eight, Part II: A League of Their Own_**


	24. Arc 9, Part I

The next week went by like a blur.

One couldn't just announce a team like the Justice League and suddenly go back into silence. There were a lot of questions being asked, and we had to answer them. We spent a few hours at an UN panel, and also did some short interviews on some news channels.

As it turned out, Dennis has awful stage fright.

There was also getting our representatives to each capitol. The CUI refused ours, naturally, but a lot of other nations accepted them. It took a lot of paperwork, but that's not too troublesome when you have an AI for a friend. Somebody also brought up the legal matter of, well, J'onn's personhood, and that took a few days to settle. Thankfully, the President granted him emergency citizenship, which was one less problem to deal with.

And, of course, we needed to actually do our job as the League. We needed to show the world that they could rely on us, without the baggage the Protectorate carried with it.

It was a lot like my old work as a solo cape, but now I had friends to help along with it. The equipment Dragon and Defiant cooked up made evacuations a lot easier whenever a disaster struck an area, and Dennis could freeze any injured people I brought to him, or erect barriers to protect large groups. J'onn could interrogate criminals with ease, and his telekinesis made area control a lot simpler. And Weld was helpful when it came to hostile environments, like radiation zones or underwater. After all, someone made out of metal couldn't drown, or asphyxiate, or suffer from radiation poisoning.

There was a lot of work to do in that week. So, naturally, I wanted at least a _little_ time to myself. School was a nice distraction, though I was beginning to consider having J'onn fill in for me on his off-shifts, especially since I didn't _need_ to go. Still, sometimes I embraced it; going through the motions helped ground me. Superwoman might be a global leader, but that didn't mean Taylor Hebert could skip on her homework.

Perhaps it was a stroke of fate, or just something else, that my decision would lead me to my next big problem.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"A field trip?" I asked.

"They brought it up at the last parent-teacher conference," Dad said.

I frowned, then continued making breakfast. It was careful work, getting the toast golden brown with heat-vision, but I managed to get it right. Scooping the eggs onto the toast, I carried the plate over and plopped it down in front of him.

"I don't recall anything about a field trip." I took a sip of my tea, letting it calm me down. "They never mentioned it."

"Or maybe you were busy listening for something else," Dad replied. "They mailed the permission slip to me yesterday, since you didn't bother to pick one up."

I paused, thinking. Now that he mentioned it, I did recall the teacher asking us to get parental permission, but I must've been more concerned with the fire going on downtown.

"Where's the trip to?" I asked.

"Some factory or construction site," Dad said. "I think it's that new science building being built."

"Oh? Who's funding it?"

Dad scratched his chin. "That new Fortress Construction company, I think."

I put my mug down, with more force than necessary. It was enough startle Dad, and I couldn't help but flinch at his reaction.

"Fortress Construction?" I managed to squeak out.

That was Calvert's company, the one J'onn had been investigating before we started the League. Why was it hosting field trips? Just to come off as squeaky clean? Or was there something more sinister at hand?

"Is, uh, something wrong, honey?" Dad asked.

"Oh, uh, just... thinking," I replied absentmindedly. "When's the field trip?"

"Today, actually. I already signed the slip."

"Wait, why?"

Dad simply gestured to the newspaper. Glancing over, I saw that the headline was 'Newfound League Saves Village from Avalanche'.

"I've barely seen you all week, kiddo. I remember how stressed you were _before_ all of this. You can take a small break, honey. It'll be fun, and once you're back we can get takeout."

I sighed. It _had_ been a while since I last did something with him.

"Alright," I said. "I'll go."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"...and as you can see here, Fortress Construction is beginning the task to clean up the boat graveyard," the guide said, a bright smile on her face as she gestured out the window. "Back in the 1980's, Brockton Bay was a thriving seaside port, but since then it's fallen on harder times. It's estimate that it will cost approximately thirteen million dollars to clean up this area, but the returns will be much higher..."

The kids in my group didn't seem particularly interested in the view. Maybe it was because they'd been told the story of the graveyard a hundred times already by their parents, or maybe it was just because of teenagers being teenagers. To be fair, there wasn't that much going on; there were a few crews sifting out the old relics and building a new pier, but it was relatively low-key in comparison to other projects.

Still, I found it interesting. There were a lot of projects being planned by the company, apparently; there were even talks of an arcology being constructed in the bay, where the Protectorate HQ was. I didn't know why, but the idea seemed awfully familiar.

There wasn't anything suspicious going on, anyway. It made sense, I had to admit; if Calvert was indeed up to no good, then he'd be smart enough to keep it out of my city. In fact, he seemed to be doing the city some good, with all the projects he was undertaking. Now that the city was rid of the gangs that had plagued it, the people could finally look to the skies once more.

I couldn't still help but be suspicious, however. I only had J'onn's word on the matter, but I could trust a telepathic Martian with decades of detective experience. Calvert had to be up to something, even if it was so subtle that only a trained eye could figure it out.

Another heartbeat began to approach the group, interrupting my thoughts, and I looked up. A man dressed in a sharp business suit was walking over, with a certain suave confidence that few had. His skin was rather dark, and it appeared that he shaved his head, based on how he still had the follicles for it. I got the faint scent of cologne from him, and a very expensive product at that.

Huh. Speaking of...

The guide looked a bit flustered. "Oh, M-Mr. Calvert, I didn't know..."

Calvert smiled with thin lips. "There's no need to be nervous, Miss Perrine. I was just dropping by to see how the field trip was going."

He turned our way, and his smile broadened. Yet, I couldn't help but feel that there was a predatory look to his eyes, almost bored as he studied us.

"I'm Thomas Calvert, CEO of Fortress Construction. I'm here to answer any questions you may have about our operations here, then you can go on to lunch. Now, who'd like to start?"

The student next to me raised her hand. Calvert pointed her way.

"Well, uh, if your company focuses on Endbringer shelters, then why are you doing all these projects?"

Calvert chuckled. "Many companies broaden their horizons as time passes. Nintendo used to sell card games, back in the 1880s, and eventually became the biggest video game company on the planet before Kyushu sank. Yes, I used to focus on building shelters, but now we're expanding to all sorts of architectural wonders."

"Besides," he added with a grin, "I don't think Endbringer shelters are going to be... profitable, in the future."

Everyone knew what he meant by that. Before, it was almost a given that there would be more attacks, never ceasing, until suddenly one was vaporized. Now, the entire status quo had shifted, and everyone was struggling to keep up.

And it was all because of me.

"Any more questions?" Calvert asked.

Another student raised his hand. When picked, he coughed, then said, "Why are you clearing up the graveyard?"

"Why?" Calvert gave a small snort. "Could you explain?"

The kid began to sweat under the man's intense gaze. "I mean, why not just have Superwoman clean it up or something? Can't she lift mountains with her pinky?"

For a few moments, Calvert seemed to consider the question. Then, he straightened.

"Though I do believe Superwoman is doing a lot of good in the world, I feel that such actions would only serve to stifle human progress. After all, I'm putting a lot of men to work so the graveyard is clear, and ofttimes such tasks allow for innovation, _revolution._ By your logic, we shouldn't even wear seatbelts, if she can just catch you."

He _did_ have a point with that. I wasn't planning on being an enabler, but an inspiration. Yet, I felt that Calvert was hiding some... harsher words as he spoke, like he was trying to remain civil and keep up a good image. Whether I liked it or not, speaking ill of Superwoman had become political and social suicide in many circles.

"Any more questions?"

Against my better judgment, I raised my hand.

"Yes?" Calvert asked.

"I read somewhere that you used to run the company from Boston. Why the sudden switch to Brockton Bay?"

He seemed almost taken aback by that question, like he wasn't expecting any of us to do our homework. Still, he managed a smile as he spoke.

"This city is ripe for opportunity, miss..."

"Hebert."

"Well, Ms. Hebert, Brockton Bay is in an unprecedented time of peace. The crime rates here are now lower than any large city in the country, and there are few other companies that have the will or the capital to move here. It's like having a blank slate almost, one with which I can build the city of tomorrow."

I had to bite back from saying, "And you have it all because of Superwoman." It was rather hypocritical of him to yap about human progress when his business opportunities were opened by me.

"Is that all?" Calvert asked. "Well, now you can all go have some lunch."

With that, the group began to move again. Out of the corner of my eye, I could notice Calvert studying me, then walking off.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Later that night, as I took off again, I began to wonder just what he was up to. From what he said, it was quite clear that it was far more profitable to do legitimate work in the city, or at least mostly-legal. If that was the case, then why would he be willing to attempt a criminal enterprise in the hometown of the world's most powerful hero? Was he really that arrogant, or did he have something up his sleeve, something I didn't know about...

Either way, I was going to get to the bottom of it. I was going to need some leads, however, if I wanted to make any headway on it.

With that in mind, I decided to drop by J'onn's office, and see what he was up to. Surprisingly enough, he still kept up with the detective work on his off-shifts; I guess Martian psychology was far more used to such workloads. If anyone had the information I needed on Calvert, it was going to be him.

Hopefully, it would be enough.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **9.02**

The night was cold and overcast as I walked over to J'onn's office. It was October, now, and it would only get colder before the warmer weather returned. I didn't mind it too much, since the cold never bothered me, and with my sight, the clouds might as well not have been there. I still had to keep up appearances, however, and that could be a bit of a hassle. It's a lot harder to stash away a heavy winter coat without drawing attention than a sundress, after all.

As I walked up to the corner, a couple passed me by, and for a split-second I found myself struck by the haggard looks on their faces. The woman in particular looked as though she'd been crying for hours, if the puffy red skin around her eyes was any hint, and the man looked as though he'd aged ten years in ten days. They carried themselves like a heavy weight was resting on their shoulders, and I found myself wondering what could be wrong.

For the briefest of moments, I thought I saw a flicker of _something_ across their faces, something that was almost like light, yet _not_. It was something I'd seen before, back on my date with Weld, but I still couldn't figure out what it was.

I spared them a glance as they moved past, then I redoubled my pace to J'onn's office. There was a faint trail of infrared snaking up to the office door, and culminated in two seats; that must've been where they'd just been.

Keeping that in mind, I knocked on the door. J'onn greeted me after a moment's pause with a rather glum expression, and I began to put two and two together. Whatever they'd come to him with, it wasn't a small matter.

"Evening, Taylor," he said. "I take it you need help with something?"

"Did you just have some clients?" I asked. "Man and woman, both with dark brown hair?"

"Yes, though I'm not one to violate confidentiality as to why they were here-" Suddenly, J'onn's expression changed. "In this case, however, I may be willing to invite some outside help."

 _Telepath,_ I reminded himself. Whatever he'd skimmed off, it was enough to change his mind, and I found that more than a little concerning.

I took a seat, and J'onn sat down at his desk. Almost like old times, but there was something more serious about it, like all the previous liveliness had been sapped away.

"So, why did the couple come to you?" I asked. "Who are they?"

J'onn sighed. "They're Louisa and Amos Alcott. They've come to me with a missing persons case about their eleven year old daughter Dinah. Apparently, she disappeared without a trace around last week, and the police haven't been able to find anything."

I frowned. "A _week_? And I didn't know anything about this?"

"Ten days," he corrected. "And that might actually be our fault, in a sense. The events of the last week, from the Protectorate crumbling, to the founding of the League and my exposure as Martian, have pushed everything else out of the news. I would be surprised if the disappearance even made the papers."

"That still begs a lot of questions," I said. "Why didn't we notice this? Why didn't _I_ notice this, in my own town?"

J'onn leaned forward. "Taylor, what happened ten days ago?"

My eyes widened when the realization hit me.

"Noelle," I breathed. "We were busy containing Noelle... and you mentioned something about an investigation before it all happened. It can't be a coincidence that she was taken while I was distracted; whoever was responsible had to have been planning it..."

I clenched my fists, and looked up at J'onn.

"It's Calvert, isn't it?" I asked, trying to keep my voice even. "He took her, didn't he? He has the resources, the knowhow; if anyone in town could do it, it'd be him."

"I can't definitively say that," he replied swiftly.

"Can't you just read his mind and find out?" I demanded, with perhaps more force than necessary. "Why not just pluck the knowledge from his head?"

J'onn straightened. "Taylor, I can't do that."

"Why not? You did it to Hero and Eidolon."

"That was different," J'onn retorted, his voice barely above a growl, and I was taken aback by the force of his words. "I knew what they were doing beforehand, once I did some detective work and a; I just used telepathy to get more information out. But in this case, I don't definitively know whether or not Calvert actually is responsible. I can't just enter his mind without consent on a hunch, Taylor, that'd be a violation of private freedoms, an illegal act."

"When have we let laws prevent us from doing what's right?" I asked, frowning. "I'm sure I broke more than a few Namibian laws when I took down Moord Nag."

"True," J'onn admitted. "But there's a difference between laws meant to hinder and enable abuse of power, and the laws that _protect_ against it. Most civilized countries agree on laws that are basic human rights, an example being that the government cannot invade privacy for no reason. You may not be a government, Taylor, but you are becoming a world leader, and you have to set an example."

"By that logic, wouldn't I be violating such laws every time I hear a crime being committed in a home?"

J'onn paused. "That could be considered reasonable cause, like if a man heard a home invasion going on over at his neighbor's. Indeed, if I had _very_ reasonable cause about Calvert, I'd read his mind, but I don't. For all we know, he could be innocent, and another party has taken Dinah."

"How would you feel," he continued, "if a stranger opened a diary of yours? Can you imagine that feeling of helpless magnified, to where some stranger is peering into your most personal thoughts, laying bare your deepest secrets? It'd be a violation. On Ma'aleca'andra, forceful invasion of a sentient being's mind was a crime of the highest calibre, punishable by death. I have to be _sure_ of it, before I can consider it."

He paused, thinking, then pressed on. "Are you willing to cross such lines, and set an example for the world? It's tempting to brush aside such obstacles, but is it worth the risk?"

"If it's to save a little girl from imprisonment, with god-knows-what happening to her?" I asked. "Yeah, I'd take any risk."

There was a silence that hung in the air between us. I thought over what I said, then looked up.

"But I hope I never have to reach that length."

"Let's all hope you never have to reach that length," J'onn said. "You can do anything, no matter the difficulty; more than anyone else, you can take the high ground. Don't let people lose that ray of hope, Taylor."

Another pause.

"Did they give you a picture of her?" I asked. "Dinah, I mean."

J'onn fished out a photo and handed it to me. It showed a small girl with mousy brown hair, smiling into the camera as she sat a table with her father. I studied it for a few moments, making sure to memorize every last detail, then handed it back to J'onn.

"What kind of evidence would it take to convince you to search his mind under reasonable cause?"

"It'd take a fair deal, Taylor. I'm no longer a lone vigilante." He paused. "However, if you can get the proof, I can do it. Though, if it's overt enough, you can just handle the problem yourself."

I rose from the seat, and walked to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To get ask some questions," I said. "And, hopefully, get some answers."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

I went looking for Dinah first. It was the most obvious solution, and hopefully the right one. After all, I could see electrons in their orbits, or hear a cell divide; there couldn't be a place on Earth where they could keep Dinah hidden away from me.

At least, in practice.

I opened myself to the city, then to the state, and eventually to the country, searching for her face in the crowds, in any nook and crannies. I opened my ears to anything suspicious- screams, cries for help, and the like. It was what I normally did, but now I was looking for something specific, _someone_ specific.

Still, no dice. I couldn't find a trace of Dinah anywhere, at least, not anything I could use. I looked up her address, then searched her home. According to the police reports, she'd been taken from her room while her parents were away. I could see faint signs of someone picking the locks, but nothing else. Whoever'd done it had left no forensic, like hair or fingerprints; they knew how to hide their tracks pretty well.

But I did find her DNA, in the form of hair and skin flakes. I memorized the code, then looked around for other traces; whether I liked it or not, I did have to consider the possibility that she was...

...I hoped that wasn't the case.

The search only proved more confusing. I couldn't even really find traces of her DNA, either, or any shred of physical evidence; it wasn't likely that she'd been disposed of, but it didn't answer the question of where she could've been.

How do you hide someone from a person who can see and hear _everything_?

Perhaps I could at least get some clues, by asking a certain individual about that day.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You're asking me about what?" Noelle asked.

"Thomas Calvert," I repeated. "Trickster had mentioned that he'd already secured someone's help in trying to cure you, back when I was helping calm you down in Brockton. Was he talking about Thomas Calvert?"

"I-I don't know," she replied. She scratched her chin absentmindedly. "He didn't mention a man's name, but he did say something about us having 'jobs' for a company to help keep our cover while in town. I was pretty hungry, you see, so I wasn't paying too much attention to the exact details. I do know they used a truck from the company to carry me over."

"Do you know the name of the company?" I asked.

"Fortress something," Noelle said. "Fortress Construction."

I nodded. "Thank you, Noelle. Sorry about interrupting your movie."

"Oh, I don't mind," she said, dismissively waving her hand at the TV. "I like the company. Dragon talks to me a lot, but I like a change of topic, you know?

"Yeah, I know. She can be a bit of stale conversationalist."

Noelle rubbed her head. "So, is there anything else you need to ask? Any news?"

"Well, Dragon said she might have something that could prove to be a treatment; she wanted to start the trials on you by Friday."

She smiled at that. "Thank you, Superwoman."

I smiled back, but my mind was occupied elsewhere. "No problem. See you soon."

I left the Fortress swiftly after that, mind racing. It was getting more and more evident that Calvert _was_ up to something, and it most likely involved Dinah. Maybe it was because she was the mayor's niece, and therefore a good hostage, or maybe there was something else at play. Either way, she'd been taken for a reason.

For her sake, I had to find out why.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

After a few hours, I was still getting nowhere. There were other things I needed to do in the meantime; in fact, there were a few kidnapping cases I had to handle, but that didn't mean I couldn't give thought as to where Dinah could be.

Whoever had taken her, they had something that could get around my senses. With such an advantage, who knew what they could do without me knowing about it.

Could it be related to Hero and Eidolon, along with that organization they'd been in charge of? Ever since the fight with Noelle, I couldn't find a trace of them, either. It made a fair deal of sense- a person with access to just about any power could probably find a way to hide from me. But why would they be interested in Dinah?

That only hardened my resolve. I was going to get to the bottom of it, no matter how hard it was.

But how? The connection I made was spotty at best; it didn't seem like I'd be able to convince J'onn with it. He did raise a point about ethical issues, though I found myself wondering if there was something else at play, something I didn't know about.

I thought back to what he'd told me earlier, when I was first starting out. A hammer, he called me, the biggest hammer around, but some situations didn't need hammers; they needed scalpels.

It was time that I became a scalpel.

There had to be leads I could follow, evidence I could find. Company records, background checks, inventory stocks, anything. If Calvert really was the one behind it, then he probably had accomplices, or at least associates I could question. There hadn't been any witnesses to the event, but maybe bystanders had seen something they'd brushed off as innocuous. All I had to do was find the right thread, and perhaps the whole thing would unravel.

That didn't mean I had to go it alone; there were more than a few scalpels in the world, after all, and far better at it than me. They could spot threads I'd look over, and know where to look, or how to ask questions. J'onn was one of them, but there were others that could also help...

Suddenly, I got an idea.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Nine, Part I: City of Tomrrow**_


	25. Interlude - T

The office was silent, save for the soft ticking of a clock. He liked the silence; it helped him think, especially when he had something large on his hands.

Today was one of those days.

He spent the morning reading his stock reports, filing paperwork, and other functions a CEO needed to handle. His think tank had left him a few emails and messages, and he took the time to go over them, taking notes where needed. The advice covered a broad number of areas- stocks, materials research, potential investors, and politics, both local and global.

It was always helpful. It had to be, too; he was paying through the nose for it.

He was irked that he needed to consult them, but he always managed to justify it. True, they had mental powers that no human could ever hope to reach, but it was more like having a calculator or tape recorder in their head. They lacked the foresight, the _intelligence_ , to use their powers properly.

If it weren't for him, he imagined, they'd all be either small-time criminals, in jail, or dead. Regardless, they'd all be making a lot less money then they were now.

There were other matters they offered their expertise on, but such things were… outside of company business. He never perused them while in the office; he had to keep up appearances, after all. If anyone were to see him (and he wouldn't be surprised if a certain individual did), then they'd see nothing but a legitimate businessman at work.

Cyril had taught him that. He still didn't know why the man had taken him under his wing for that short time, taught him a few tools of the trade. Maybe Cyril had seen that he, too, had big plans for the world, and saw a kinship, a fellow dreamer.

It hadn't lasted. There were differences between the two; Cyril was more of an opportunist of sorts, doing what it took to have his larger goals achieved. If it meant solving world hunger, or delicately crafting peace among nations, then he'd be willing to have his accomplishments go unacknowledged, or even die.

The thought made him shake his head, even to this day. What was the point of crafting a better society, if you couldn't be at the top?

He decided to check his news feeds. They were updated every twenty seconds, alerting him of her whereabouts. It was useful for when he needed to time his more… delicate meetings.

 _8:33.19 AM EST- Train derailment in Beijing.  
_ _8:33.47 AM EST- Attempted robbery in York.  
_ _8:34.13 AM EST- Mugging in Tehran.  
_ _8.34.19 AM EST- Mugging in Tehran.  
_ _8.34.24 AM EST- Mugging in Tehran._

She was a busy bee. It was hard, cutting the wheat from the chaff, but he managed to discern which ones he could trust. Sometimes, she'd be onto something new before the update even arrived, but there would come emergencies that couldn't be solved so quickly. Even she couldn't be anywhere at once, and it was something he took care to remind himself of.

At least, she couldn't be omnipresent _yet_. The reports he'd been receiving on that front, coupled with his own research, had been producing unsettling results. Perhaps they weren't true, but if they _were_ , then things would become… interesting, to say the least.

A ping from the feed alerted him of a large event. A landslide in Chile was threatening a fairly large town, and the League was responding. Based on previous reports, he could have up to twenty minutes before they went on the move again.

It'd be plenty of time.

Calmly rising from his seat, he straightened his tie, then grabbed the reports he made from Ms. Livsey's observations. He'd run them through the other members of the tank, and then reviewed it himself, seeing where the familiar ruts may have shown their ugly heads.

Giving his secretary a small nod as he passed by, he took the elevator down to the building's lab. There were two guards at the door, and they stood up when he stepped forward.

"Morning, Mr. Calvert."

"Morning, Walter," he said, using a well-practiced smile. "Just want to check on Janus."

"Right away, Mr. Calvert."

The two guards entered their keys and turned them at the same time. A small light on the door blinked green, and he opened it. A faint cool breeze caressed his cheek, and he shut the door behind him as he stepped into the lab.

There were a number of projects inside, some of them almost finished, but his attention was focused on the one at the end of the hall. A large ring, big enough for two eighteen-wheelers to drive across at the broadest.

Project Janus, reverse-engineered from Professor Haywire's tech with the help of a few tinkers and thinkers. A portal-maker, one that could lead to other Earths. As far as anyone else knew, it was the latest design in Endbringer defense; the civilians could simply retreat to a place where the beasts couldn't get them, regardless of the firepower they wielded.

It actually was meant to do that; he was going to unveil the design tomorrow. There were, however, _other_ uses for it.

Walking over to the control console, he dialed in the coordinates, and a small lens formed in the center of the ring. Swiftly, it began to grow, until he could see the interior of a complex. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through, and the portal closed behind him.

There was no way the Kryptonian would be able to see him now.

Someone was already there, a fedora tucked under her arm. Her hair was slightly damp, and he could see water droplets on the fabric of her tailor-made suit.

"Punctual as always," he said.

She said nothing.

He smiled. "Very well. I'd imagine you want to know what I've managed to discern so far."

"Yes." Her voice was oddly stilted, like something else was saying the words for her. "Any insight into the Kryptonian's nature would be appreciated."

"Any insight is also nearly impossible to get. I've studied the sample you've given me, but trying to crack her nature is like trying to find the Grand Unified Theory."

He smirked, then added, "In fact, there may be a link."

"You've made headway, then."

"I've made enough. Her genetic structure is far more complex than ours, but it's still DNA. That alone should make it unlikely that she's actually from another planet, but that's a tangent. The important fact is that there's no gene that could allow flight or shooting lasers from your eyes."

"We'd already deduced that," the woman said.

"So I imagined." He gestured her to follow him. "This way, please."

He led her to a lab, full of tinker equipment, but also a fair share of human hardware. Located in the center was the sample he'd been given, electrodes attached to its pallid flesh.

"I'd actually examined some tissue samples with particle accelerators from CERN," he continued. "There's _something_ going on at the subatomic level, and it's most likely what gives her such power. Strange effects we would be lucky to understand in a thousand years."

"Kryptonian technology."

"More like magic, considering how advanced it is. The Kryptonians were an engineered race, that much is for certain, and almost every facet of their nature is artificial, crafted by intelligent hands instead of blind evolution."

"And yet, they went extinct," the woman said. "If they were all like her, then they should have been able to survive their star's nova."

"It was the very nature of their star that hindered their power," he retorted. "Look at these results."

He pulled up some data on a nearby computer screen. The woman studied it, eyes narrowed.

"Whatever effect or technology is working in her body, it's catalyzed by certain kinds of sunlight. Our sun is a G-class star, while Krypton's was most likely a red giant, with much lower energy emissions. I exposed some tissue to sunlight, and sure enough, I managed to detect the energy effect. It grows broader with more exposure."

"Broader?"

"It allows her to pull more power from whatever energy source she's deriving it from. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to produce such power, even if her entire body was composed of antimatter."

"That still leaves a number of questions."

"And you'll get a number of answers. Her power isn't actually a physical one, you see; it's psionic. Her power is mind over matter, powered by that mysterious energy source."

He produced the thick report he'd written. "Her brain would put any computer to shame. She doesn't just defy Newton, she defies Heisenberg. We can't accurately determine both the momentum and position of a particle, but _she_ can."

"That should be outright impossible," the woman said.

"And yet, here we are." Calvert gestured to the sample. "Her strength doesn't come from her muscles. She's able to use some kind of field to lift objects of extreme mass by manipulating gravity itself. That same effect allows her to fly, by telekinetically lifting herself of the ground and at extreme speeds."

"Even faster than light?"

"I suspect she's able to project an Alcubierre field around herself at those speeds; it's wholly feasible considering what else she can do."

"I see. Continue, then."

Calvert grinned. "Her flesh isn't made of some absurdly durable material, otherwise she'd never be able to move. Instead, she's able to somehow alter her subatomic structure; it's why she can tank a nuclear blast without a scratch, yet still have flesh as pliable as a human's."

"It's all Breaker effects," the woman murmured.

"Indeed. Why do you think she can lift an oil tanker without it folding around herself, or carry people at such speeds without reducing them to paste or setting the atmosphere on fire? She can neutralize both inertia and friction, which also serves to enhance her other abilities."

"What of her heat-vision?"

"Action-at-a-distance. She can transfer immense energy into the target; the beams we see are trace effects, most likely due to inexperience. Her ability to freeze objects operates on the flip-side, where she can _take_ _out_ kinetic energy."

"The implications of this are astronomical."

"That's putting it lightly," Calvert said. "She herself seems aware of these powers, and yet she can still use what are most likely the basics. Imagine if she decides to advance her understanding: alteration of probability, long-range telekinesis and telepathy, even manipulation of time itself."

"You said that her power comes from sunlight. If she were to be cut off, then this effect would fade?"

"Fade?" Calvert shook his head. "No, the chain-reaction has already begun. You can slow the rate at which she develops her power by cutting her off, but you can't stop or revert it. That's why she can operate at night."

He handed her the papers, and she took them.

"I'm surprised that you were able to deduce this," she said.

"Call it imagination," he replied. "Something that a lot of thinkers seem to lack. I take it that you want your sample back?"

"Yes," she said. "There are other interested parties who want access. You'll be compensated, of course. Ten vials, all high-grade."

"And you only gave me two for a copy of Janus," he said. "These must be _very_ interested parties."

"Yes," the woman stated.

"I also take it that I'll see no interference from your side?"

"Ensure that it's achieved only after six months. We need the Kryptonian."

"She's human, you know," he said.

She shot him a look.

"The likelihood of an alien species using DNA is, quite frankly, slim," he explained. "The Martian doesn't have it, that much I know, and that Case 53 she works with lacks it as well. Coupled with her human appearance, and we're looking at something that _is_ human. A posthuman, to be more precise; the end result of our species' development into something beyond Man."

"Her origin is unimportant," the woman said flatly. "Once the specified time has passed, you can enact whatever plans you may have."

Calvert smirked. "You have my word."

The woman nodded, then stepped into the hallway that had suddenly materialized behind her. He caught a glimpse of that familiar alabaster hallway, then the portal closed. When he looked over at where the sample had been, he was unsurprised to see that it was gone.

Now that the meeting was out of the way, there was more business to attend to.

He walked back over to the ring, and pulled out a pressure suit from a nearby crate. It was difficult to put on, but he managed to avoid wrinkling his suit as he pulled it over him. The helmet went on last, and he snapped the visor shut.

He punched in a different coordinate, and stepped through.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Ms. Alcott," he said, studying her through the one-way mirror.

The small girl on the cot woke up and sat upright, rubbing her eyes blearily.

"Candy?" she asked.

"In time. I'd like to ask you some questions, first."

She closed her eyes, but said nothing.

"Chance of my death today."

"Zero point zero zero two percent."

"Chance of Superwoman investigating Fortress Construction within the week?"

Dinah's brow scrunched, and she put a hand to her head.

"Can't see. Hurts. Can I have candy now?"

A frustrating point, that. He'd hoped that she'd finally be able to predict Superwoman's actions, but it seemed that the hero's very nature clouded such things.

"A few more questions, and I'll allow you some candy."

She nodded her head, slowly.

"Odds of these groups threatening operations. Ambassadors. Cauldron. PRT. Justice League."

"Sixty eight point nine."

Concerning, but expected. He took note of it, then asked more questions.

"Odds of these S-class threats threatening operations: Behemoth. Simurgh. Scion. Sleeper."

"I can't see them," she whispered.

"Teeth. Chosen," he asked instead.

"Zero point eight."

"J'onn J'onzz."

"Can't see him, either."

"The Batman."

"Sixty eight point nine."

He was surprised by that. The vigilante had been making himself known in the criminal underworld, but he hadn't ever been spotted in the bay area. And such a high percentage, too…

"Chance of the Batman threatening operations within the week."

"Zero point two."

"Chance of the Batman threatening operations within the month."

"Sixty eight point two… it hurts, like there's something else. Candy?"

He frowned.

"Alright. You can have a little candy."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

After some more questioning, he returned to his office, straightening his tie as he sat back down at his desk. He poured himself a cup of tea, and took a sip, thinking. The sun shined down through the windows, warming hims back as he enjoyed his drink.

Though there were a few bumps in the future, things were altogether proceeding smoothly. With those ten vials, he imagined he'd be able to smooth out any wrinkles in operations.

He shook his head at the thought of where those vials would have gone, otherwise. A waste of potential, no doubt.

They were all wastes, he saw. Everyone spoke of how parahumans had drastically changed the world, dominating every facet of it, but he knew just how little they used their potential.

He thought back to Nilbog, and that fateful day in Ellisburg. He saw a man who could create life itself, a man who could upset the balance of the world on a number of levels, who's very nature warranted him an S-class rating. He could've brought nations to heel, with armies of monsters and germ warfare.

And what did he do? Stayed within his small little town to play goblin-king.

An utter waste. His commanding officer was the opposite- a man with too little potential, and too much authority. He'd shed no tears when he put an end to that issue and blown his brains out.

Most people lacked the will to act, to take control of their lives, instead of letting the world do it for them. Powers did nothing to change that; in fact, it just made it more evident. He'd realized that in Ellisburg, and it'd left a mark on his life.

He'd take control of his life, and realize his potential. Parahumans were no inheritors of the future, with their pointless squabbling and failures. They could've ruled the world, but they were lucky to control a city, or even a gang.

He never regretted not taking that vial.

Instead of participating in their squabbles, he controlled them. Money was a form of power in this world, and he had plenty of it, thanks to playing his stocks right. Getting his think tanks and organizing them had cost a pretty dime, but you had to spend some to gain more, after all. With the money he got by directing one thinker in the right direction, he'd easily pay back the hiring fees.

Fortress Construction was one of the fastest growing companies in the country, now. He had branches in twenty-three major cities, and his reputation had only grown when his shelters had saved lives. In a matter of years, he could ride such goodwill into major political positions, if he played his cards right.

That is, if it weren't for a certain obstacle in his path.

Above everyone else, she was the biggest disappointment he'd ever laid eyes on. She wielded more power in her pinky than the Protectorate had with its army of capes, and could slay what everyone had agreed was unkillable. There was no person, no army, no _monster_ that could challenge her might.

She was a god.

And what did she do with her power? Play cops and robbers.

It was utterly unconscionable.

And yet, she'd proved to be an obstacle, a ceiling that refused to let him blossom. There were plenty of methods he could still use -Cyril once told him that the best tools of corruption were the legal ones- but it was still quite hindering. He had to play nice and squeaky clean, lest he draw her attention.

At least, for now.

There would be many that'd call him mad, daring to challenge someone so powerful and beloved. What could a man do to a god, after all?

He always smiled at the thought.

After all, he was an avid reader of Nietzsche.


	26. Arc 9, Part II

**9.03**

Before I could do anything else, I'd need to find the man, first.

I hadn't been paying too much attention to him, since there were far more important things to handle, but that didn't mean I hadn't read the news. He was starting to make quite the stir in a few cities all over the country, thanks to his methods and the eyewitness reports.

One night, he'd foil a robbery and a few muggings in New York, then bust a drug kingpin in Chicago the next. Eyewitness reports were fleeting, thanks to the cover of darkness he used and the speed he handled operations, but the aftermath was clear- rattled but unharmed civilians, and crooks that'd be lucky to spend the next month drinking out of a straw.

I didn't approve of such methods, but there were worse offenders. He apparently wasn't the ones for executions, and seemed unwilling to let innocents get in the crossovers, unlike some infamous examples of vigilantes.

Eventually, the police managed to get a rough picture based on the accounts of the people the man had saved, along with the blubbering of the thugs he manhandled.

A tall shadow, almost like that of a giant bat.

Originally, he was thought to be a Case 53 like Weld. It made sense- when there were capes that looked like walking trees or something out of an HR Giger movie, a bat-like shadow didn't seem that much of a stretch.

Then they'd found tinker-tech at the scenes. Most of it was rigged to dissolve, somehow, but there were traces here and there, where the mechanisms must have failed.

That raised a few eyebrows. Tinkers didn't operate alone as a rule of thumb, so why was there one operating solo missions against some of the nastiest the country had to offer?

Still, he flew under the radar at first. Maybe he'd show up in a news blurb, or get mention on PHO, since those guys would have twenty-page arguments on why Narwal had a horn on her head, but for the most part he was out of focus. There were plenty of vigilante heroes out there, after all, and what was just one more?

Then, people realized just how capable he'd proven himself to be.

It was one thing to handle the mundane criminals and organizations; they might pack firepower, but they're rather predictable. But taking down entire _gangs_ of parahumans, often in one night, was a whole other beast. He'd defeated high-level capes all over the classification chart, and evidence seemed to suggest he did it alone.

The League and I did bigger things every day, but the fact that some lone vigilante was taking down such villains with surgical precision was attention-getting. Already he'd become some kind of bogeyman for the criminal underworld stateside, one that struck a kind of fear that I could never instill.

They wouldn't want to run into Superwoman at night, but they were _terrified_ of the Batman.

He sounded like just the kind of person I needed.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Like a lot of hunters, he only moved at night, using the cover of darkness as an advantage. That narrowed down possible places he could be in, so I checked each city shortly after sunset. Brockton Bay and other spots in New England were clear, as was New York.

For the first few days, I found nothing. Sometimes, I'd be too preoccupied with an emergency to go looking for him, especially when the entire League was involved, but other times there were just no sightings. Eventually, however, I knew I'd catch him at the right time.

I eventually found my mark in Chicago.

It was a stormy night in the Windy City, but that didn't seem to stop him from going on the prowl. I found him crouched on the corner of a rooftop, like some odd gargoyle, staring down into a small alleyway that had half a dozen crooks making some kind of deal.

I gently descended a few feet behind him, making sure I didn't actually put my weight on the gravelly rooftop. For a moment, I simply floated there, wondering how I'd breach the subject. It wasn't like I could just give him a tap on the back and say "how are you, buddy!".

Though, I did find the thought pretty tempting.

"I don't like being snuck on," he suddenly said. His voice was distorted, most likely by a tinker device. "Why are you here, Superwoman?"

"It's not like we can talk over a cup of coffee," I replied.

Slowly, he moved a hand away from his belt, and turned around to face me.

I had to admit, he'd become a bogeyman for good reason, just going by appearance alone. He looked like some kind of demonic knight garbed in dark grey and black armor, with horns protruding from his helm, and what looked like claws on the tips of his gauntleted fingers. A thick black cape was draped over his shoulders, like a cloak, and his eyes were hidden behind glowing white lenses. On his chest, I could make out a stylized bat etched into the armor.

"Then let's talk," he said, taking a step closer.

It was a bit intimidating, even if he posed no threat. I was two inches off the ground, and not a short girl in the slightest, but he still managed to stand a good head over me. It didn't help that he had the figure of a bodybuilder, and was wearing bulky armor.

"I've read up on you." I rose a few inches, to better look him in the eye. "I don't agree with your methods, but I know you've done some good work, especially with that small fiasco in Manhattan."

"Is that why you interrupted my patrol? Just to say that?"

"No."

The Batman folded his arms. "Is this to take me in, then?"

"Also no," I replied, mirroring his gesture. "It's why I haven't just taken a peek under that helmet of yours, either. I'm asking for your help in something."

"Oh?" He relaxed somewhat, but still stood straight. "You don't seem like the kind to go asking vigilantes for help."

I gave a small shrug. "Normally, that's true, but the situation requires a certain kind of tact, something I don't have. I might be able to rip an Endbringer in half, but I'm no detective."

He seemed to consider it for a while. The deal was still going on below, and there was no doubt that it was pressuring him to make a decision.

"What kind of situation are we talking about here?" he finally asked.

I grabbed some waterproof paper and a pencil from a pouch in my utility belt, and drew a copy of Dinah's photo. I could recall every detail, down to the last pore, and I made sure that it was as close to the original as possible. There was no telling what he could get from the small details, after all.

I held it up for him to see, and he took the paper from my hand.

"She's been missing for eighteen days, now," I said. "I haven't been able to find a trace of her anywhere, and I'm not certain who could have taken her."

"Not 'certain', you say. That implies you at least have some leads."

"Just one. Ever hear of Thomas Calvert?"

"CEO of Fortress Construction," he replied. "Didn't he make the news with some new kind of Endbringer shelter?"

I nodded.

"What makes you think he's responsible?"

I paused for half a moment. "I have reason to believe he orchestrated the fiasco in Brockton Bay with Noelle, since it was his company that was transporting her."

"That's flimsy at best."

"True," I admitted. "But that's why I want your help in investigating it. Maybe Calvert's not responsible, but if he turns out to be, and I could've figured it out? I'd never forgive myself."

He glanced down at the drawing, then folded it gently and stashed it away in his utility belt.

"I'll help you," he said. "But I'll need something to work with, first."

"Leave that to me," I replied. "Besides, I think I already have something in mind."

"Alright then," the Batman said. "You can find me in Brockton Bay tomorrow night."

I extended my hand. "Consider it done. I'll see you then."

He hesitated for a few moments, then shook my hand, rather awkwardly. I didn't know why, but there was something awfully familiar about it. Maybe it was the cool metal of his glove that reminded me of Weld, but that didn't seem to fit.

"Good talking to you, Superwoman," he said. "Now, if you excuse me…"

With that, he turned around and hopped over the edge of the rooftop, cape fluttering as he descended upon the thugs below. They had no idea what hit them at first, and there wasn't much time to process things before the screaming began.

I decided to sit back and watch him come down on the gang like the wrath of God. If it got out of hand, I could stop it in a heartbeat, but I wanted to get an idea of how he operated.

He landed right in the middle of them, asphalt cracking under his metal boots, and immediately dropped two with tranquilizers to the throat. Another overcame his shock in time to try and club him over the head, only for the Batman to dodge the blow and jab three fingers into his solar plexus.

The man fell to the ground, wheezing and gasping for air, just as the remaining three were drawing their weapons.

That hadn't gone unnoticed. The Batman swung around, lashing out with a kick, and knocked the gun out of the nearest thug's hand. The momentum brought his cape swinging around, and it whipped at the other two's faces, disorienting them. A quick peek revealed small weights in the scallops, which explained things.

Now, he rushed forward. One of the thugs opened fire, but the Batman had ducked a half-second before the trigger was pulled, and rewarded the man's efforts with an uppercut that was more felt than heard. Still moving forward, he brought his elbow into the last one's face with enough force to splinter the crook's cheekbone, and they were all down.

All in all, it'd taken him twenty-five seconds. He went easier on them than most - _maybe_ it had something to do with the Endslayer staring down at him while it went on- but the men would be feeling this night for a while.

He made sure to cuff them all, then he stretched his arm at a nearby wall and flexed his fist. A grappling hook shot out of a small device on his wrist, and he was gone, rappelling away.

Already, I could hear the sounds of sirens in the distance, drawn by the gunshot. They could handle the clean-up; there were other things that needed my attention.

With that, I flew away, heading out of the city. I'd be taking my shift at the Fortress in an hour, and Dragon wanted my permission to try something for Weld. Something about assimilating Kryptonian alloys, and perhaps even allowing him to make more complex tools with it.

I'd make sure to ask Colin about that, once he started his shift in the morning. Come to think of it, I imagined he could offer some insight on tinkers.

As I flew over to the Fortress, I couldn't help but smile a little. There was still no sign of Dinah, but I couldn't help but feel I'd taken a step closer to finding her.

I'd made myself a strange ally this night, that was for certain. He was almost my polar opposite in appearance and methodology, but it seemed that he had what it took to help me find the girl, and perhaps even uncover the truth about Calvert.

Would it actually work? Could the Batman actually help me crack the case wide open and save Dinah?

Only time would tell, but I was feeling cautiously optimistic.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **9.04**

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"C'mon, it'd be hilarious. Could you imagine-"

"Dennis, I'm not going as myself for Halloween."

He folded his arms and pouted. "You don't think capes dress up, too? I remember this one time where Assault and Battery actually swapped costumes for a party, and-"

"Dennis, people know that I live in Brockton Bay, and I don't wear a mask. I'm not taking that kind of risk just for kicks."

"Fine." He leaned back in his chair, propping his legs on the table Weld was sitting on, only to have them pushed off. "I'm going in costume."

Weld frowned. "Dennis, aren't you a little old to be trick-or-treating?"

"Pfffft. There's less and less kids out each year, but the old folks buy the same amount of candy, so they don't give teenagers the stink eye anymore when they come to the door. Taylor can vouch for me on that, right?"

"Yeah," I said, "but-"

"Exactly!" Dennis exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "C'mon Weld, wouldn't you want to go trick-or-treating with me? You and I, Halloween buddies."

Weld tried to scratch his chin, and stopped just sort of getting the block of Kryptonian alloy on his hand stuck to his face. Sighing, he used his other hand.

"Well, I've never actually gone trick-or-treating."

Dennis looked as though he'd been slapped across the face. "What? Why? Is it because you're afraid people would judge you if you went out at night?"

"No. Trick-or-treating's banned in Boston."

"Oh," Dennis said simply, his face becoming as red as his hair.

I interrupted the awkward pause with a cough. "Weld, you and I could go trick-or-treating together if you want."

He smiled at that. "Really? I mean, I'd understand if you're busy…"

I leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Even Superwoman needs time off."

"Ugh," Dennis groaned, clutching his chest. "Kill me. Please."

"I know you're even worse with Emma," Weld retorted. "I don't physically have a pancreas, but you give me diabetes whenever you call her 'honeybun' around me."

"Do I contradict myself?" Dennis spread his arms wide, speaking in a grand manner. "Very well, I contradict myself. I am vast; I contain multitudes."

Weld and I both stared at him, looks of mild surprise on our faces. He simply shrugged.

"What? I read poetry in my free time."

"Huh," was all Weld said.

I glanced down at my watch, and sighed. "Well, I have to go."

"Work?" Weld asked.

"Yeah," I replied, leaning over to give another kiss. "I'll see you at seven?"

"Seven sounds good. Maybe we could take Emma and Dennis along as a double date."

"Sweet!" Dennis exclaimed. "Taylor probably knows which places have the best candy, too."

"And you've hidden your depths again," Weld said with a sigh.

I smiled, then quietly headed out of the room. I was out of the Fortress quickly after that, and back to Brockton Bay. Night was swiftly approaching, especially now that autumn was in full swing, and there was a meeting I had to attend to.

But first, there was something else I needed to attend to.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Phone calls can be pretty frustrating when you have super senses. It's one thing for the person you're calling to not have their phone on them, but it's another when they're just too lazy to check who's calling, and you can see them not bothering with it.

Wells, it seemed, was one of the latter.

"Come on, come on," I muttered. "Pick up the phone."

Finally, he did, and his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. I made a mental note to hand out special phones to our non-combat members for League business, instead of just calling them on their normal ones.

"Allo."

"Hey Wells, it's me."

"Figured that," he said, sitting up in his chair and pausing the soccer game he was watching. "Is there a problem? Need me back down in Washington or something?"

"No," I replied. "I just wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away then."

"I know that you were in the PRT all the way back in '99," I said, glancing down at the old rosters. "Did you ever know someone named Calvert? Thomas Calvert?"

Wells paused, taking a sip of beer. "Calvert? Hmm… I think I remember a bloke by that name. He's the big new businessman in town, if I recall."

"That's the one. Did you ever work with him, personally?"

"No, never actually had him in the squad, but I'd hear about him at the old watering hole. Bit of a tosser, from what I heard. Seemed to look down on the others, and a bit of a bad attitude. In fact, there was an old rumor… eh, not worth mentioning."

I frowned. "Old rumor?"

"Well, uh, I heard something about him shooting his own commanding officer during the Nilbog incident and getting jail time for it, but I couldn't find any paperwork for it. The whole thing was very hush-hush, you have to understand. All I know is that he wasn't in the PRT after that."

"Do you think the rumor's true?" I asked.

He blinked. "What?"

"Do you think he shot his commanding officer?"

"I mean… well, I didn't hear anything _official_ about it, but I wouldn't be terribly shocked if that was the case. The prat seemed like the kind of man to do that."

"Thank you, Wells."

"Now, why are you asking me about something like that?" he asked. "Is there some trouble I need to know about?"

I weighed the decision whether to tell him or not. He was a trustworthy man, with a spotless record, but the less people that knew about the investigation…

"No," I finally said. "Just wondering, that's all."

He didn't seem wholly convinced, but he said, "Alright, then. Happy Halloween, lass."

"Thanks. Enjoy your game."

I hung up, and began to think about what he said. I'd also asked Spoon, Cooper, and J'onn about it; the first two had also heard rumors, while J'onn hadn't been in the PRT when it happened, but had a feeling something was up.

Did Calvert actually shoot his commanding officer? Wells seemed to think it was possible, but he also admitted to only hearing about the man. Cooper has expressed disbelief, feeling that such a thing wouldn't go unnoticed, while Spoon said 'the wanker's probably done more than that'.

Well, if it actually had happened, then the paperwork that could prove it was probably gone, taken with the PRT as an organization. I wouldn't be surprised if he managed to get the papers themselves, and thereby destroy the last ties to his crime.

The sound of children calling out 'trick-or-treat!' down below interrupted my reverie. The sun had already set, and people were out in full swing, all dressed in a manner of costumes. Some, I noted, were dressed as me.

I smiled. There were at least twice as many people out this year compared to last Halloween; they felt safer this time, now that they knew there was someone watching over them. The costumes seemed fuller, the decorations more plentiful, and there were more houses giving out candy.

I'd be down there in a while, with Weld and Dennis and Emma. It'd be fun, just hanging out with them and scoring some candy, and it'd definitely be a break from being Superwoman. I'd made myself a costume for the occasion.

Frankenstein and his Bride would rock the Bay this Halloween.

Well, if it went as planned, anyway. I'd sent him a text explaining it, but I hadn't checked to see if he'd seen it. The night wouldn't be ruined, exactly, but it'd be nice if we could have complementing costumes.

I became aware of another heartbeat, a good twenty feet away, and sighed.

Unfortunately, business had to come before pleasure.

I heard the faint sound of boots on the gravel of the nearby rooftop, and I turned around.

"I was afraid you weren't going to show," I said.

"I'm a man of my word," the Batman replied. "Now, you said you'd produce some leads for me."

I gently floated down to the rooftop, and walked over to him. Tapping at the wafer-thin computer built into the wrist of my suit, I pulled up a hologram a strange ring. It looked almost like something from a science fiction show; considering what it was, the description was pretty apt.

"This is the invention Calvert unveiled a while back," I said. "It's called Janus, after the Roman god of doorways, among other things. It can open a portal to another Earth, one that's uninhabited."

"I've heard so," the Batman murmured. "Is it truly capable of it?"

"I watched the demonstration," I replied. "He stepped through with a camera crew, showed them the shelters he was constructing, then stepped out. The machine's real."

The Batman studied the image for a few moments. A cool breeze rolled by, and his cape fluttered in the wind.

"It's certainly something, but how is it a lead in this case?" he finally asked.

"I couldn't see anything without looking right through the portal," I said. "And it made me realize-"

"That Calvert could hide any activities from you in another universe," the Batman finished. "Now I can see how it could be a problem. For all you know, he could preparing any sort of plan without you being able to tell what he's up to."

"Exactly. Just one problem." I pulled up an official statement Calvert released. "The machine's had some basic blueprints posted- not enough to reveal the inner workings, but you can get an idea of what it does. And it apparently only goes to that Earth."

"At least, that's what he _claims_ ," the Batman retorted. "Even if the public machines can only go to one Earth, I wouldn't be surprised if he has a model to himself that can go to other ones. And if we can find it-"

"We can get to Dinah," I said.

The Batman nodded. "And this is where I come in. The very fact that he may have the only thing that can hide things from you is reason enough to suspect he's complicit in Dinah's kidnapping."

"Do you think you can break into the facility and rescue her?"

He tilted his head. "The break-in would be child's play. I have the equipment for the job, and I can plan around whatever security measures he has. However, tinkertech's finicky at best; he's probably watered it down considerably in order to better operate it, but it may prove difficult to open the portal."

"You're going to need my help, aren't you?"

He nodded. "It's possible that there are safeguards to prevent unwanted access to the dimension he's hiding Dinah in. It'd be far easier to get the job done when I have you on my side."

"Alright then," I said. "I'm in."

"Good. Now, we need to observe the facility at first, and gather important information on guard shifts and what kind of security measures he-"

Suddenly, the Batman was interrupted by the sound of a roar, more felt than heard.

It wasn't like anything I'd heard before. It almost sounded human, but distorted and warped into something horrifying, like a death rattle magnified a thousand times over. Judging by the Batman's change in posture, he'd heard it as well.

"What," he said slowly, as if measuring his words, "the hell, was that?"

I didn't reply. At the same time as the roar, I became aware of another sound- a scream, one far beyond the range humans could sing or even _hear_ at. I reflexively clamped my hands over my ears as the shriek assailed my senses, then forced myself to listen.

An icy feeling was forming in the pit of my gut, and I knew why. To think I'd hoped they'd be gone for good…

My suspicions were only confirmed when I saw that the nearby glass was rattling.

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Nine, Part II: City of Tomorrow_**


	27. Interlude - R

It was quiet, here, and she didn't like it.

There could be worse places to be, though. Here, the weather was fair; the little tent she'd set up kept out the worst of the elements, and it hadn't rained yet.

Still, she didn't like the silence. Her creations weren't the best for cuddling, and they definitely weren't the talkative type. Jack and the others were off, having a little fun with some villages down in the valley, but he told her to stay put and work on the big project.

She'd pouted and said no fair, but he was the daddy, and his word was final. It _was_ a big project, she reminded herself, and it definitely wasn't easy.

Oh, what a find it'd been! When they raided that small lab, they hadn't expected to come across a gate to another world, but beggars couldn't be choosers. There was no other place they could hide from _her_ for long, and if they wanted to have the big party, then they needed to hide.

It gave her leeway to experiment with her little prize, stolen away from those shady-looking men. How they'd gotten it, she didn't know, but she didn't care, either. Jack hand't been worried, so why should she?

And yet…

She brushed the thought aside, and continued on with her work. With a sharp whistle, she called one of her spiders over, letting it attach to her back as she skipped over to the massive tube.

The sample was inside, almost like a fetus, twitching at random times. It still didn't have any eyes yet, but already its limbs were starting to form. There were some growths of crystalline bone protruding from its shoulders, and she made sure to cut them off.

It wasn't easy, working with Kryptonian tissue. She had to keep the sample away from sunlight; it was a lesson she learned when she broke a scalpel on the flesh. She had to use nano-scale blades after that, and only time would tell if it became too hard to work with.

There were other complications as well. There was DNA, yes, but there were other bases used in the tissue's physiology, some of them she'd never encountered before. Though it had been certainly corrupted by the process that'd given it birth, there were signs of its indecipherable heritage.

She could only hope to design herself like the Kryptonians had. Their flesh was biomechanical, artificial, but had reached a degree of complexity and refinement as to boggle the imagination. It was like taking a simple machine, and developing it to the point where it was essentially meat, albeit of a different kind from the meat she normally worked with.

And their senses! She'd injected a Kryptonian-based retrovirus into her eyes, meant to alter the physiology of her optic tissues to be more like theirs, and she'd managed to tweak her ears a little with a similar technique. It didn't hold a candle to the original, but she could still see and hear so much more than before.

Yet, she knew she'd never be able to match their work; it was like trying to create atomic power in a time before even steam.

But, she didn't have to match them. Even a diluted creation, watered down as to be a shadow of its genetic donor, would still be frighteningly effective.

Especially considering the surprises Jack had asked her to implement.

Humming a little to herself, she worked to stimulate growth of the muscles and skeletal structure, making alterations wherever needed. Occasionally she'd remove a crystalline growth before it could get too troublesome, but for the most part she let them stay. Some of them were meant to be used for combat, anyway, and the others were fairly benign.

In order to make the creature genetically stable, she had to add in bits from all sorts of other organisms. Human was the number one donor, graciously taken from Jack and herself, but there were others. Great white shark, golden retriever, rattlesnake, koala, and just a smiiiidge of dinosaur.

Well, it wasn't _really_ dinosaur- just an old project she got inspired to make, back when they'd had fun in a natural history museum.

She giggled at the memory, then finished suturing in the transmitter she'd placed near her creation's hearts. Activating it, she checked to see if it was accurately sending biofeedback; it wouldn't do any good if the transmitter was broken.

Neurological activity seemed standard, and already her creation had a strong heartbeat. It'd be some time before it was complete, but not too long.

Satisfied, she pulled away from the tube. Already the sun was low on the horizon; it'd be night soon enough. With that in mind, she began working on the other projects Jack had asked for. They weren't too hard, especially compared to the big one, but still took a few hours to handle; she had to ensure that the casing was hard to damage, and make it as hard to defuse as possible.

Eventually, she could feel herself growing tired. Though she'd made some modifications, she still needed to sleep. Though it took a chunk out of her work schedule, her body _had_ to restore itself, and there were the psychological reasons.

Then again, there were plenty of capes who didn't need to sleep. She'd dissected a few of them, hoping to find a way to replicate the effect for herself, but no luck.

Oh well. Yawning, she crawled into the tent, pulled the covers about herself, and slept.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

She woke to the sound of screaming.

Sitting upright, she opened her tent and stood up, searching the horizon. It was close to midnight, but with her improved eyesight, it was practically clear as day. The human eye could only see a tiny portion of the spectrum, and now she could see almost _everything_.

The Earth they had chosen was rather sparsely inhabited, it seemed, but that hadn't stopped Jack and the others from finding plenty of fun. The people there wouldn't have been out of place in medieval Europe, with their small hamlet, shabby clothes, and lack of weapons.

If she focused her vision enough, she could almost see the looks of terror on the panicking villagers' faces as they were torn to shreds, or sliced apart, or devoured. Thick black smoke rose where Burnscar's flames lapped at the thatch roofs of their homes, and the few pieces of glass had already been weaponized.

It wasn't an unusual sight. She'd participating with them herself if it weren't for the project, and wryly she thought that the villagers should consider themselves lucky. Jack would cut their throats from a distance, Siberian would devour them alive, and Burnscar would scorch the flesh from their bones, but they were lucky she wasn't there.

For some reason, she didn't quite feel the same amount of joy in that fact.

She didn't know why, but there none of that beauty in the slaughter when she saw it with her new eyes. Instead, it almost looked… ugly. It almost reminded her of a microscope, really- how many beautiful things looked downright hideous when you peered closer?

Rubbing her eyes, she crawled back into her tent. It was probably just her exhaustion-addled mind skewing things; she'd feel be better in the morning.

She didn't sleep well that night.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

She stared at her near-finished creation, studying it.

The creature towered over her, easily nine feet tall, and was a good four feet across, with broad shoulders and a brawny chest. If she had to make a guess, she'd say it weighed a good half-ton, maybe more, especially with all the muscle packed onto its hulking frame. Yet, one couldn't deny the similarities with human anatomy. It was more man than beast, though that wasn't saying much.

Crystalline growths protruded from its dark grey skin, extensions of its skeleton. The ones extending from its knuckles were as long as her fore-arm, and razor-sharp; coupled with the strength behind them, and a good blow would shred nearly anything. Long, jagged spikes extended from its knees and elbows, while smaller ones crowned the shoulders, meeting to run down its spine.

What captivated her the most, however, was the face. Bony ridges covered its prodigious brow, and it almost seemed to have a beard of crystals. There were even struts covering its eyes, serving to protect from attacks. A pair of curved horns protruded from its cheeks, giving it an almost demonic appearance.

And yet, it looked almost peaceful, tranquil as it slept. Jack had been specific in his instructions as to how it'd act, but she couldn't help but wonder how it'd actually pan out.

It was fully grown, now, though it would take some time for it to be _truly_ ready. She left it standing outside in the sun, and had some magnifying lenses focus more light onto its skin, courtesy of Mannequin. By the time Jack and the others returned from their sojourn, it'd be quite the powerhouse.

An understatement, really.

Another scream reached her ears, and she clapped her hands over them, trying to keep the sound out. She thought she'd adjust to it all, find her art _beautiful_ again, but she hadn't. It'd only gotten uglier and uglier, and she hated the implications behind it.

At the same time, the world seemed fuller and fuller with each passing day. She could see things she hadn't seen before, hear something almost like a beautiful _melody_ to the world itself, all combing into something beautiful.

The world itself was a work of art.

Was this how _she_ saw it every day, every passing moment of her life? No, she could see even _more_ , far more. She could hear the stars sing, and see the small clouds of possibility that defined the universe itself.

Riley closed her eyes, then bit down on a finger, peeling away the flesh. The pain helped keep on track, away from the… distractions.

It wouldn't do; it _couldn't_ do. After coming so far, only to feel all wishy-washy?

And yet, she felt sick to her stomach, every time she stared down at her hands, and saw the deathtraps shifting underneath.

There was no way to reverse it, not now. The changes were in her very genetic code; replacing her eyes and eardrums wouldn't reverse them.

She knew; she'd tried.

Walking up to her creation, she simply stepped up a small ladder and pressed her head against its chest, listening to its breathing.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

" _Very_ good work," Jack drawled, sidling over and testing the tip of a claw with his finger. "This may be your best work yet."

She put up the usual smile. "Thank you! It was hard getting everything to work, but I managed. I did everything you asked for it, and then some."

Jack poked at its skin with a knife, and seemed satisfied with how the blade failed to cut the skin. The others, for their part, seemed almost wary, save for Siberian and Crawler. With good reason, she supposed; her creation could kill most of them with scarcely an effort.

Which was why Crawler was probably itching to give it a try.

"Why, it could almost pass for Behemoth's little brother!" Jack continued, clasping his hands together. "A fitting replacement for dearly departed Leviathan, don't you think?"

"Of course," she replied, then frowned. "But I'm not good with names. What are we going to call it?"

Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully. "It'd be good to keep up with the apocalyptic monster theme, I suppose…"

His eyes brightened, and he smiled broadly. "I have _just_ the name! But first, let us set the stage, shall we?"

With that, he walked over to the ring through which they'd come to this world. She took her semi-conscious creation by the hand, and gently pulled. After a moment, it began to walk forward, guided by her tugging towards the gate. The others followed a distance behind, as if afraid to near the monster she'd crafted.

Mannequin dialed the location, and the portal formed. It seemed that one of the ring's counterparts had been set up in a busier part of the city, if the number of passerby were anything to go by. Most of them were dressed up as a number of things- heroes, villains, characters from fiction, and monsters.

There was something ironic about that. It was Halloween night, and yet the real monsters weren't wearing any costumes.

Jack practically danced through the gate, humming something to himself. She took a deep breath, and followed after him.

It didn't take long for people to realize what was happening. If people didn't scream at the sight of her and Jack, then they definitely screamed when her creation stepped through, like a demon from the fiery gates itself. The others were emerging as well, and she heard Shatterbird clear her throat as she prepared her scream.

She turned off the last of the inhibitors, and her creation opened its eyes for the first time. It exhaled slowly, thick mist clinging to its breath.

Jack gave a small bow to the crowd. Always one for theatrics, she thought. And yet, there was no art in it, only a thin veneer that covered the savagery within.

"Ladies and gentlemen of Brockton Bay," Jack began, and gave a small bow to the horrified crowd. He gestured to her creation, and called, "I give you… your Doomsday!"


	28. Arc 10

**10.01**

 _The Slaughterhouse Nine were in Brockton Bay._

I could help but feel a shudder run up my spine at the thought. I'd read about what they'd done in other cities, to countless innocents, and it was something that stuck with you. To think that they'd try the same thing in my hometown, to people I knew...

No, not if I had anything to say about it.

Time slowed as I planned how to contain the situation. The first thing I needed to do, above all else, was stop Shatterbird's scream. That alone accounted for half of the deaths caused whenever the Nine attacked- modern society was one permeated by glass, from windows to dishes to phone screens. Everyone had something made of glass nearby; if they were lucky, they'd get nasty cuts, or partial blindess.

If they weren't…

Thankfully, that was fairly easy to solve, despite the threat posed. With ears like mine, I could pinpoint the breathing of a baby chameleon in Madagascar; to me, Shatterbird's shriek might as well have been a sign labeled "please punch me". Less than a half-second after I heard the scream, Shatterbird was kneeling on the ground, gasping for breath as she clutched at her bruised throat.

Aside from some cracking in a few select windows, there was no damage done, and she wouldn't be singing anytime soon. Thousands of deaths, averted in an instant.

Unfortunately, there was still a problem.

Chiefly, I was now within arm's reach of the monster they'd brought with them.

Before I could whirl around, a fist the size of an air conditioner smashed into my back at hypersonic speeds, sending me flying. I managed to stop my momentum before smashing into a nearby building, but just barely.

Turning around, I saw the monster staring at me, a low growl escaping it. Doomsday, Jack had called the thing. It certainly looked like a harbinger of the apocalypse, with its curved horns and blood-red eyes that almost seemed to glow in the night.

Eyes that were staring right at me.

Time slowed for me as I assessed the situation. It certainly was a hard-hitter; only Leviathan had been able to knock me around like that before. But how? I'd done some reading on Bonesaw, and found that her creations rarely tended to be major powerhouses, so why now? If she was thinking it coulda actually _fight_ me...

Wait.

My eyes widened when I peered closer, looking past layers of crystalline bone and steel-like muscle. There was a transmitter of some kind near its two hearts, but that wasn't what had caught my attention. No, it was further down, on the cellular level, in the creature's very DNA. Doomsday's genetic code was warped, a mishmash of various others… but ultimately familiar.

It was _Kryptonian_.

A chill ran down my spine as I processed that. That alone made Doomsday the number one priority in this fight. If that thing had even a _fraction_ of my power, it could flatten Brockton Bay in a heartbeat.

I had to act fast. Doomsday was already on the move, even as the others still looked like statues. Asphalt cracking beneath its feet, it leapt in my direction, teeth bared. Flying in to meet with it, I caught Doomsday in the chin with an uppercut, a small shockwave expanding from the point of impact and shattering nearby windows. The monster's head snapped up with the blow, and it rocked upwards, away from the city.

I pressed my advantage, and flew up again, only for Doomsday to lash out with a kick. I let out a low huff as its foot connected with my gut, and I found myself shooting downwards. I was quicker to recover this time, however, and I shot up again, dodging a punch from Doomsday as I grabbed it by the leg.

It roared at me, flailing as it tried to break my grip, but I held on tight as I began to spin around, building up momentum. The thing weighed a good half ton, and I could use that against it. I continued to spin, faster and faster, and finally let go.

With the sharp pop of a sonic boom, Doomsday shot away from me, hurtling towards the Atlantic ocean. With the angle at which he hit the water, he actually _skipped_ across the surface like a stone. Eventually, it hit the shore of the island of Flores in the Azores, far away from habitation.

I let out a sigh of relief at that. Thankfully, it seemed that the creature couldn't fly; I could control the battlefield, keep it away from populated areas. If I played my cards right, I could possibly get it off the planet without exposing it to sunlight.

At the same time, however, there was another pressing matter- the Nine. Even if they weren't on the level of their new pet creation, that didn't mean they were pushovers. With a flick of his wrist, Jack could cut the throats of half the crowd nearby, and that wasn't considering what the others could do.

Siberian had Jack and Bonesaw in her hands, granting them her invulnerability. That ruled out going straight for them, which would be the simplest option- I probably _could_ overpower her, but the force required to do so would also probably leave Brockton Bay a smoking crater.

And there was the possibility that I _couldn't_ overpower her. That was a terrifying thought to consider.

I still had my options, however.

Swooping down, I began to grab the people in the crowd, moving them out of the Nine's immediate vicinity before Jack could so much as twitch a finger at them. Easier said than done, even for me; it was downtown on Halloween night, and there were a lot of people out that night. I couldn't just put them anywhere, either, or they'd be back in danger soon enough.

As I did, I typed out a message on the computer built into the wrist of my suit, alerting the other members of the League. Weld and Dennis were already in town, and the others wouldn't take long to arrive. Dragon had mentioned that she and Colin were working on possible countermeasures to the Siberian; maybe Jack wasn't as invulnerable as he thought.

There was also the Batman. I could hear a soft _clink_ as he activated his grappling hook, most likely to swing in the direction of trouble. He didn't quite seem like a team player, but I had a feeling he'd be able to help us against the Nine.

They were going to need help. Until I could take care of Doomsday, they'd have to handle the Nine without me.

 _This_ was why we founded the League, I thought. To take up the mantle as the world's protectors from the evils that lurked in the shadows. If we stopped the Nine for good, here and now, then that meant we were deserving of such a title.

Only time would tell if we'd succeed.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Interlude**

"What do you think of my costume?" Weld asked, spreading his arms. "It's a bit makeshift; I had to borrow one of Mr. Hebert's old coats, and I couldn't get my hands on green paint in time, but I like it."

Dennis bit his tongue, glad his helmet hid his face. "So… Frankenstein, huh?"

"Frankenstein's _monster_ ," came the retort. "Frankenstein was the doctor who created him, then just kind of abandoned him."

"Huh. Never read the book."

"It's a good read," Weld said. "People like to think of the Monster as a dumb, well, monster, but he was actually pretty intelligent in the book. Learned two languages in a year, and taught himself to read. Sadly, society refused to accept someone like him, even his own creator."

"Okay, then," Dennis said. "So, is that why you stuck a pair of nails into your neck?"

"Well, yeah. It doesn't look bad, does it?"

"No, but the fake stitches do."

Emma gently nudged her elbow into Dennis's side. "I think it looks good on you, Weld."

The boy smiled. "Thanks! Taylor and I were planning on-"

He was interrupted by the sound of a roar in the distance, accompanied by a short-lived scream, one that seemed to make the window's rattle. There was the sound of something like a cannon going off, and he could've sworn he saw a massive shape fly over the street they were standing in.

"Oh," Dennis said. "Oh, _shit_."

To drive the nail into the coffin, both of their phones rang at the same time. For a split-second, they stared at each other, and realized just _what_ that meant.

Weld was quicker on the draw as he pulled out his phone and read the message. If he had real blood, it would've run cold at that moment.

 _S9 IN BB, DTWN AREA. BSAW HAS MADE A KRYPTONIAN MONSTER, CURRENTLY ENGAGING. ALL LEAGUERS, REPORT TO BB ASAP. - S_

A siren began to wail, like the kind used in the air raids of wars long past. All over, people began to stop in their tracks, the realization dawning over their faces.

"Emma," Dennis said, his voice unusually calm, "get to the closest shelter you can find. Don't stop for _anything_."

"What's-"

"Now."

Emma stared at him for a second, then began to run. Already some others were doing the same, no doubt directed by emergency channels. Forgotten masks and buckets of candy began to litter the sidewalks as the people ran, verging on a panicked stampede.

Weld watched them go, fists clenched. If Taylor was fighting some monstrosity, what chance did they have against the Slaughterhouse Nine?

No, he couldn't think like that. Defeatist attitudes often proved self-fulfilling. He needed to focus on a plan to engage them, force them back.

"Clock, do you think Siberian can get through something you've frozen?"

"I'd expect her to fold the universe in half, first." Dennis rolled his neck, the joints popping. "I'm _so_ glad I went in costume tonight. Let's go."

Downtown was just three blocks away. Weld began to run in that direction, following any sounds of a commotion. Overhead, he saw a flash of light in the distance, like someone had shot a flare into the sky- Legend was arriving on the scene as well.

Having a former member of the Triumvirate present was assuring, if only a little. Legend had fought the Nine before on numerous occasions; he'd know how to handle it.

They finally arrived at the scene of the commotion. The city square had been abandoned in a huff, leaving only the ring device that'd been demonstrated a while back. A trio of figures were leaping away from the scene with some large container, he saw, and a figure in black was following after them.

Shatterbird was there, a ring of broken glass circling around her as she rose into the air. There seemed to be a bruise on her throat, Weld saw; no wonder why she hadn't sung yet.

Hatchet Face had started moving down a street with Mannequin, carrying something big between them.

"What is that?" Dennis asked. "A bomb?"

"Maybe," Weld replied. "We need to get-"

He was interrupted by a low laugh, like a dull blade dragged over stone. Turning, he watched as Crawler emerged from the ring, the street trembling with each step he took. Burscar was right behind the monstrous cape, wreathed in flame, and she immediately began to hurl fireballs at anything that caught her attention.

"This is not going to be good," Dennis said.

Weld opened his mouth to reply, only their comms to beep.

" _This is Dragon. Martian Manhunter and Legend are already arriving at the scene, and I'll be there in one minute._ "

"Where's Defiant?"

" _…he seems to be responding to the scene, but he's staying silent for some reason,_ " came the reply. " _I believe he's pursuing Jack, Siberian, and Bonesaw_."

"Nothing ominous about that," Dennis muttered.

" _I'm sending flight-packs to each of you. Mobility is key in this confrontation; you need to be able to fly if you want to catch some of the more mobile members of the Nine. You do remember the training exercises, yes?_ "

"Yes, ma'am," Weld said.

A flash of light drew his attention back to the Nine. Legend had arrived, and was firing at Shatterbird, who in turn was blocking the shots with thick pieces of glass. The two capes took to the skies, firing at each other and dodging attacks. Shatterbird seemed to be on the defensive, but she'd managed to erected a thick shield of glass around herself; it'd take a good deal of force to break through that.

"Uh, Weld?" Dennis said, and pointed.

Weld looked back down, and realized Crawler was running at them. The monstrous cape knocked aside a car like a wiffleball as he bore down on them, only for some force to knock him back before he could even get halfway.

At that moment, J'onn emerged from the ground, orange eyes glowing in the night. Before Weld's very eyes, he began to change, flesh bubbling and shifting. His skin assumed a pebbly texture, short feathers sprouting out, and his head became elongated, forming powerful jaws lined with teeth the size of steak knives. A long, sinuous tail sprouted from his back, balancing himself as he rose on two tree-trunk legs, standing a good twenty feet tall.

"Huh," Weld said.

"Did… did he just turn into a fucking T-rex?" Dennis asked.

A shrug. "He _did_ mention that he was on Earth during the time of the dinosaurs."

They watched as J'onn and Crawler began to circle each other, waiting for the right opportunity to attack. The ground shook with the two monsters' ponderous footsteps, and Weld found himself wondering just how safe he and Dennis were at their current position.

 _Ask yourself,_ J'onn rumbled. _Is being here with me what you_ truly _desire?_

" **Yes!** " Crawler roared, and lunged.

J'onn charged to meet him, jaws opened wide as he bellowed a challenge. The two collided with an impact more felt than heard, then began to tear at each other. J'onn clamped his jaws over Crawler's neck, teeth barely finding purchase in the monstrous cape's skin, then twisted, flinging him away.

Crawler landed a good thirty feet away, pancaking a car beneath his tremendous bulk, then rose to his feet, head shaking like a dog's. The blow seemed to do nothing, but it distracted Crawler away from Dennis and Weld, at least for the time being. The two continued to struggle against each other, tumbling and rolling about the street, asphalt shattering beneath them. Burnscar seemed to be keeping her distance, but that wasn't stopping her from setting a nearby building on fire.

" _J'onn's going to need help with the fire,_ " Dragon said. " _I'll handle that, as well as Crawler, but you two need to head for Bonesaw and Siberian._ "

It made sense, Weld thought. He was probably the only Leaguer available that Bonesaw couldn't infect with one of her plagues, now that Taylor, J'onn, and Dragon were all occupied. Dennis, on the other hand, was their best bet against Siberian.

The flight packs finally arrived, shot down from the sky by Dragon's main suit. Weld shouldered his, and did Dennis. Taking the controls, they steadily rose above the street, and followed after the trio in the distance.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Did you bring the bag?" Wells asked.

Spoon nodded, plopping it down on the gravel rooftop. Opening it up, he pulled out a sniper rifle and handed it over, then grabbed an assault rifle for himself.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?" Cooper asked, sheathing a nano-blade knife into his bulletproof vest. "This is the Nine we're talking about, here. Maybe we should leave this to the League."

"And possibly let one slip out in the commotion?" Wells made sure he had a round in the chamber, then put the safety on and holstered the pistol. "We've fought them back in Pittsburgh; we can do it again. I'm not going to just sit around with my thumbs up my arse while they tear this place up."

Cooper shrugged. "Fair enough."

Spoon started chewing on a stick of gum, and grinned. "Let's kick some murderhobo arse."

"You're bloody loving this, aren't ya?" Wells said, shaking his head.

"Better than pissin' my trousers," Spoon replied. "Now, where to?"

"Probably where everything is on fire," Cooper said. "Just my guess."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Wells said. "Move it!"

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He was insane; he had to be. Going alone after two of the most dangerous members of the S9, each of whom had killed more heroes than anyone who wasn't an Endbringer? It was something few capes were powerful or stupid enough to even _think_ of trying.

Time would tell what category he fell under.

He wished Dragon could help him with this, but she was too busy helping J'onn contain Crawler, as well as the fires Burnscar was starting to kick up. There were civilian evacuations to consider, too, and alerting the authorities.

He swung onto the ledge of a two-story building, and scanned the horizon.

Bonesaw was hiding somewhere; he didn't have time to go looking before he lost the rest of the quarry. Besides, Dragon was already searching for her, guiding Weld and Clockblocker to her whereabouts. He trusted that the two of them would be able to handle Bonesaw with Dragon's help, if only until Superwoman came back.

 _If_ she came back, a part of him thought, but he dismissed it. If she could slay an Endbringer, then she could handle anything the Nine could cook up in two weeks. She'd be back soon enough, once the 'Doomsday' monster was dead.

Until then, it was up to him to go after Jack and the Siberian.

The two of them weren't that hard to find; Siberian was hopping from rooftop to rooftop, carrying Jack by the arm. They seemed to be keeping fairly close to the portal, most likely in the case that they needed to retreat, and he took advantage of that.

With one last shot of his grappling hook, he swung into the air, his cape extended into wings as he glided down. His HUD began to calculate the most likely trajectory Siberian would follow, and he aimed for a few meters away from the landing site, just to be safe.

He landed on the rooftop before they did, his cape fluttering behind him. Siberian touched down with nary a sound, staring daggers at him, while Jack seemed to be more bored than anything else. Behind them, fires from Burnscar's rampage were rising, casting a hellish red glow to a good part of the city.

Jack tilted his head a little, and smirked. "You're new."

Colin didn't answer. Hidden behind his cloak, he reached for his weapons, and tensed for a fight. He and Dragon had spent some time developing countermeasures for the Nine, especially Siberian, but the only way to be _completely_ sure was see how they did in combat.

Jack frowned. "Dark, brooding silent type, eh? Not a lot of fun, but I need _something_ to keep myself occupied."

He made a small gesture, and the Siberian charged.

The Batman backed up at the same time, and let a blade fly free, aiming right for the Siberian's chest. Halfway through its flight, the blade suddenly froze in space; the battery would only last two seconds, but it was more than enough time.

As soon as the Siberian made contact with the blade, she suddenly vanished. There was no sound, no light-show; one moment she'd been there, and gone by the next.

"Oh," Jack said.

Colin flung another blade his way, but the man somehow seemed to sense it before it was even thrown. Jack ducked beneath the blade and rolled forward, bringing his knife up in a swipe as he rose back to his feet. The Batman felt the telekinetic blade scrape against his armor, but it failed to make a scratch.

Kryptonian fabrics. He thanked that long-lost world, then went on the offensive.

Charging forward, he tossed another blade at Jack's way, only to somehow miss again as the man leaned back. Changing tactics, he lashed out with a kick; the blow was only a glancing one, but the force behind it was enough to knock Jack away.

They began to spar mano-a-mano, but neither of them could really tag the other. Jack was nimble, and he was quick, but his blades couldn't find any purchase in the Batman's armor. On the other hand, it seemed as though he had some sort of sixth sense; the Batman was lucky to even get a glancing hit in.

The Batman dodged to the side, avoiding a slash meant for his throat, and activated the nano thorns on his gauntlets. A faint grey glow encompassed them, and he lashed out with a punch, aiming for Jack's face. Jack dodged the blow as he'd done before, twisting to the side and leaning back, but still suffered a shallow cut across his cheek.

Not a serious injury at all, but it seemed to catch the man by surprise, if the slight widening of his eyes meant anything. Still, he quickly recovered, and put some distance between the two of them-

-just in time to have a small nano-thorn blade hit his eye. Unfortunately, the other half of the blade lodged itself in his eye socket, preventing the thorns from reaching his brain.

At that moment, the Batman's HUD flared, and the Siberian reappeared in his peripheral vision, moving in for the kill.

Her hand missed his face by half an inch as he jumped away from the swipe, then made a back-flip. She charged at him, and he ran to the side, his armor allowing him to keep a pace that'd put an Olympian to shame. Turning around, he threw another time-stop blade.

The Siberian dodged out of the way, only to hit the other he'd thrown a moment after.

Once again, she flickered out of existence, but he knew it was only temporary. He looked around, searching for possible avenues of attack.

A shorter time passed than before, and she reappeared at Jack's side, clutching his arm. For his part, Jack seemed more annoyed than hurt as he pulled the blade free, letting it drop to the ground.

"Well, that was fun, but there's still the main event to look forward to." His voice was casual, chipper. "The night is still young, after all."

He gave the Batman a small wave. "Ta ta for now."

With that, the Siberian leapt into the sky like she'd been shot out of a cannon. The Batman followed the black and white shape as it faded into the distance, then sent the positions over to Dragon.

The fight could've gone worse, but it could've gone better. He only had five timestop blades left, and it was clear that taking out the Siberian for a few moments for each blade was not enough to get the kill in on Jack.

How did the man do it? Bonesaw had definitely given him a fair share of tinker upgrades, but he was still relatively fragile, relatively _human_. How could he dodge hits from a man in power armor and predictive programming?

Perhaps someone else would have better luck, but until then, he needed to keep on them.

With that in mind, the Batman fired his grappling hook, and continued the hunt.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"I think I see one," Spoon whispered. "No, make that two."

Wells grabbed the binoculars. "Right you are, lad. Looks like Mannequin and Hatchet Face, and they're… huh."

Spoon took back the binoculars, and peered down at the street corner below, near one of the apartment buildings. The city was rather deserted -thank God for the evacuations- but they didn't seem to mind the lack of prey. No, they were setting something down; whatever it was, it was big enough that they needed to carry it together.

"A bomb?" Cooper asked.

"Knowing these prats, it's something worse," Wells replied. "Maybe Bonesaw cooked up something nasty, hoping that the League would be too busy to notice."

"We should alert them, then. I'm sure Dragon could spare something."

"And they might set it off then and there," came the swift retort. "We need to distract them before we can make the call."

"On it, Sarge," Spoon said, taking aim with his rifle. "I think you should go for Mannequin; I'll get Hatchet Fuckface."

Cooper put a hand on the man's shoulder. "Your aim's pretty shite, mate. I'll handle it."

Spoon bit down a chuckle, then made room for Cooper on the ledge, trading his rifle in for a shotgun. In the distance, he could see the dim glow of Burnscar's flames, slowly dissipating as Dragon worked to extinguish them. Brockton Bay was almost pitch black, now, a veritable ghost city.

For a moment, he could imagine he was back in Liverpool, with the SAS. That'd been bad, though he'd met Cooper and Wells during that time.

It was a stupid decision to have him and two hundred others sent there to quell the gang war that'd burnt down half the city, but times were different back then. People were scared about parahumans. They were still scared, but they'd become resigned to that. Back then, the governments of the world thought that they could handle the problem, keep the people's faith in them.

Twenty made it back. Half of them were relatively unscathed; the others became textbook examples of the horrible things parahumans could inflict on the nonpowered. Burnt, twisted, driven mad. Some had lost their basic motor functions without taking a scratch, thanks to one particular cape villain.

But they'd won. It was a horrific, stupid waste of good men, but they'd won. It reminded him that there was something that normal people had when it came to these things, that capes didn't: the acknowledgement that they were outgunned, most likely going to die horribly, but still soldiering on.

Sure, weaker capes went up against stronger ones, and they were aware of that, but that was completely different from what the Spartans must've felt at Thermopylae, or the limeys at Rourke's Drift. Hell, the average lifespan of a Soviet soldier in Stalingrad had been only twenty seven minutes, and the capes had the audacity to bitch about losing twenty capes in an Endbringer fight?

Powers changed how they viewed such situations, and he felt it was not for the better.

"Spoon, make the call," Wells hissed.

Oh, right. Refraining from chewing his gum for a moment, he pulled out his phone and shot the message to Dragon on the line she'd set up for League personnel. Now, once they drew those fuckers away, she'd be able to handle whatever surprise the Nine had.

At least, hopefully.

Of _course_ Superwoman had to be distracted by a monster made from her own DNA. If it weren't for that, this whole thing would be over by bedtime.

"Contact in three…" Cooper said. "Two… one…"

Six sharp cracks echoed through the empty city. Spoon glanced over at the ledge, seeing what they'd managed to accomplish.

Wells had managed to knock Mannequin into a nearby lamppost with the anti-material rifle, but it seemed as though the bastard hadn't gotten scratched by the shot. At least Cooper had managed to draw blood when he fired five rounds in Hatchet Face's chest. The cape was clutching the wounds, but he was far from out.

In fact, he was heading over to their position, with Mannequin following after him.

"Well, at least we got them distracted," Spoon said.

"Time to haul ass!" Wells shouted, leaving the rifle behind; it'd only slow him down. "Let's go, ladies!"

The building was only a two-story one, unfortunately, and the closest exit was the window on the second floor. Wells and Cooper were the first ones downstairs, making for the exit, and Spoon followed shortly behind.

The two capes were already inside. Mannequin lashed out with an arm, imbedding it into the wall and barring the exit. He wagged a finger mockingly, while Hatchet Face merely grunted and moved forward.

"Hold on!" Spoon shouted, taking aim with his shotgun. "Go! Go!"

He fired a shot, catching Hatchet Face in the shoulder. Mannequin paid no attention, and went for Cooper and Wells, who were currently running down one of the halls. The three disappeared from sight, and Spoon could hear shouting and gunfire.

That left Hatchet Face, who was now focusing entirely on him.

Fuck.

Spoon ducked into the nearest room, and locked the door behind him, chaining the bolt. It was one of those solid European-types; hopefully it'd keep the fucker occupied for a few moments while he tried to prepare a defense.

Quickly, he searched his surroundings. He was inside a kitchen that'd been hastily evacuated; there were still half-eaten meals on the table. Grabbing a few chairs, he propped them up against the door, just as he heard heavy footsteps approaching.

The edge of a hatchet cut a neat hole into the door, and Spoon opened fire, unloading his shotgun. He heard a shout of pain, and a loud thump as Hatchet Face hit the opposite wall, no doubt reeling from the wounds.

That bought him a small reprieve. He went to reload, and realized he forgotten his ammo in the crazed retreat. No side-arm, either; it was stupid mistake, but it'd happened.

It also just probably cost him his life.

A moment passed as he chewed his gum, then he tossed away the shotgun and shoved the table to the side, out of the way. He grabbed a pot and filled it with water, then turned the stove on at max.

That'd only take a short time to boil, thankfully; the stove was one of those powerful gas types. Hopefully, the water would be ready in time for what he was planning to do.

He began to rapidly breathe in and out, preparing himself. He stretched his arms, rolling his shoulders with satisfying pops. It'd been a while since he'd been in a proper fight, but it was almost like riding a bike, hard to forget.

Hatchet Face was back at it again, tearing a wide gap in the door. He glared inside the room with hateful eyes, blood smearing his scarred face.

Spoon grabbed his shotgun again, and smashed the butt of it right into Hatchet Face's nose. It didn't seem to inconvenience the cape much, but the next three strikes managed to chip some teeth.

At the same time, the water began to finally boil, hissing and popping. Backing up, Spoon grabbed the pot, and ran over before Hatchet Face caught on to what was happening.

"Get fucked!" Spoon spat, and swung the pot at Hatchet Face's, well, face.

The effect was pretty satisfying. The cape shouted in pain as the boiling water got in his eyes, and reflexively dropped his signature hatchet. Spoon grabbed the weapon and pulled it inside, out of reach. Too long to effectively use, unfortunately.

Hatchet Face blindly began to tear at the door with his bare hands, eyes closed shut. He'd be lucky to see again, Spoon noted, but that didn't make him a pushover. His chest and stomach were essentially an expanse of torn skin and blood; that could prove a useful weak point to hit, especially considering how much blood the man was losing.

"Come on!" Spoon shouted, pounding his chest with both hands. "Come on!"

Hatchet Face finally made it inside, and Spoon got into a fighting stance.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **10.02**

Doomsday was back on the feet by the time I reached it again; the creature was seemingly unscathed by the impromptu flight across the Atlantic. It was crouching close to the ground, trying to hide its massive bulk in some shrubs, like a panther ready to pounce. Its red eyes scanned the horizon, wide with something I couldn't quite discern.

It wasn't just some dumb brute, then. It seemed to still have at least a shred of intelligence left over from its genetic donor, though it could've just been animalistic cunning, like that of a wolf or a tiger.

And yet, there was _something_ going on behind those eyes, though I couldn't quite put my finger on it.

As soon as it saw me coming, the creature _jumped_ , covering miles in a single bound as it headed for another island. I easily caught up to it, however, and knocked back down into the ocean like I was spiking a volleyball. Doomsday hit the water like a bullet, flailing as it tried to swim back up to the surface.

The monster didn't have time to recover before I dove beneath the waves like a harpoon, hitting it in the gut and sending it even deeper underwater. It didn't seem to be too inconvenienced by being deprived of oxygen, or the crushing pressures as we went nearly a mile down, but it certainly felt the impact when we struck the seabed, kicking up massive clouds of silt in the process.

Doomsday rose to its feet, slowly floating upwards. It flailed again for a moment, and I took advantage of its disorientation to breathe in deeply, puffing my chest as it filled with water. Before it could realize what was happening, I exhaled, freezing all the water for two hundred feet and securing it in place.

It broke out in less than a second, a look of rage on its face.

Roaring, it swung a clawed fist at me, but I ducked beneath the blow, and returned the favor with a punch to the stomach. The monster doubled over, hugging itself, and I moved in for another hit.

That was when it suddenly lashed out again, catching me in the chin with the spike on its knee. I shot out of the water, stopping myself a good half-mile in the air. Absentmindedly rubbing where he'd hit me, I felt something warm and wet on my fingers.

Blood.

The wound had already healed, and it'd barely be considered a paper-cut, but that was enough to rattle me. Those claws and spikes were as sharp as mono-molecular knives, but far tougher than any earthly material; evidently, it was a combination enough to cut my skin.

There was another element at play. We were fighting in the dead of night; I was pretty much running on reserves at the moment. I couldn't head over to recharge, lest I run the risk of letting the creature rampage, and I'd only get more tired as the fight continued.

Then again, so would the creature. Unless its biology was somehow even better at utilizing its powers than me, which was _incredibly_ unlikely, then I'd win out in a game of attrition. It'd only been alive for a few weeks at the most, while I'd been absorbing sunlight for the past fifteen years of my life.

At least, that _should_ be the case.

Doomsday managed to find some purchase on the seafloor, and pushed against it with enough force to shatter rock for a hundred feet around, a shockwave rippling through the ocean and making the nearby island itself tremble. Shooting out of the water like a bullet, it tried to strike me again, but I was better prepared this time.

Moving out of the way, I grabbed it by the arm, then flew straight up, quickly leaving the confines of the atmosphere behind us. Doomsday thrashed against me, roaring silently in the void, but I held tight.

It was a risky move, taking it up like this. There was no telling how quickly the creature could process sunlight; I could only hope that the exposure it got en route to the dark side of the Moon would be trivial. If I kept on the ground, then there was a risk of innocent lives at risk.

I was almost tempted to just throw it fast enough that it'd exit the solar system, but I knew it wasn't a good idea. It'd still be exposed to sunlight, even at such distances, and who knew what new powers it could develop in that time. Maybe it'd even develop flight like me, and come back down with a vengeance.

And the transmitter nested near its hearts gave me worry. What was it? A deadman switch?

My thoughts were interrupted when the sun shone on my face, and Doomsday suddenly broke free. A boot smashed into my face, knocking me away, but I recovered in time to lunge right back at the creature. Ducking under a clumsy swing, I pummeled at its sides, my fists moving in a blur as they hammered away. Now that there was no atmosphere to worry about, I could move faster, hit harder.

Doomsday tried to hit me, but I was too quick for it. Without any leverage to support itself, it couldn't steady its blows; I was in complete control of the fight at the moment.

Suddenly, Doomsday's throat began to glow.

I pulled back, but not quick enough. There was a flash of light, like a miniature sun had blossomed in the back of its throat, and a red beam shot out of Doomsday's maw. The blast struck me right in the chest, sending me back and propelling the creature away at the same time.

Eventually, it stopped firing, and I briefly felt around where it hit me. Doomsday hadn't inflicted even a first-degree burn, but the fact I could even feel the heat was testament to its power.

I let that familiar warmth build up behind my eyes, and I glared at Doomsday.

Two could play at that game.

Doomsday could do nothing as my heat-vision strafed across its chest, cutting deep and scorching its flesh. It clutched at the twin wounds, and I could 'hear' its shriek of pain, even as the injuries began to heal.

While it was distracted by that, I rocketed over, and hit him in the jaw with a solid haymaker. It was rather subdued, compared to what I'd hit Leviathan with; I still didn't want to trigger any potential deadman switches. Still, it was the kind of punch that, if we'd been in the atmosphere, would have flattened everything around for a hundred miles from relativistic effects.

Crystalline bone shattered under my fist, and hot blood spattered against my face. Doomsday shot back down to Earth, white-hot plasma sheathing it like a fiery cocoon as it hurtled down through the atmosphere and into the Western Pacific, right near the Marianas Trench. It didn't stop at that, in fact, it plowed a good half-kilometer into the seabed itself, making a crater half as wide.

Considering the sheer amount of energy behind the impact, it might as well have been as though a small asteroid smashed into the ocean. Massive waves expanded from where the creature had hit the water, and a large cloud of vaporized seawater rose into the air. I sighed to myself and cursed the foolishness of that move; unless I wanted inundate a good chunk of Japan and Indonesia, I'd need to contain the waves before I could focus on Doomsday again.

I first froze the clouds billowing up from the surface, letting them fall back down as snow, then began to fly around the waves, rapidly creating a windstorm that forced them back. Satisfied that there wasn't anything else I needed to be worried about, like a shifting of tectonic plates, I dove into the water and landed near the crater Doomsday had made.

The impact hadn't just cracked the basalt; the sheer amount of energy contained within had _liquefied_ it. Hot magma billowed up from where Doomsday had landed, almost entombing the creature as the molten rock solidified again upon contact with the freezing waters. Frantically, Doomsday began to struggle free, shattering rock as it swam out of the crater.

The wounds were already healing, but they'd been bad. Its jaw had completely shattered where I'd kicked it, and red blood clouded the water as it leaked from massive gashes all over its grey hide. One of its elbow spikes had broken off at the tip, and its knee spikes had been twisted at painful angles.

It stared at me, and I was shocked to see tears brimming at the corners of its red eyes, disappearing as soon as they formed.

The creature was _crying_.

No, not a creature. That wasn't an accurate term anymore, not when I saw the neurons firing in its brain.

 _He_ was crying.

I stepped forward, and he rapidly back-pedaled away, trying to put as much distance between us as possible. At that moment, I knew what I had seen on his face earlier, when he'd been scanning the horizon for me.

He was _afraid_.

I now knew what was going on. Bonesaw didn't manufacture Doomsday as a mindless killing machine; he was essentially a baby, lashing out at me in fear like a toddler would when pushed into fight or flight. There was no malice behind those eyes, only terror as he tried to stay alive, not knowing why he was being attacked.

Was that what the Nine had intended? Try to make me kill what was, for all intents and purposes, an innocent newborn? It was definitely Jack's MO, to try and break a hero's resolve, and what was more tempting a target than me?

I wasn't having any of it.

If I could get him to J'onn, or get J'onn to come over, then maybe we could calm him down, keep him subdued until we got to the Fortress.

There was a problem with that, however: how could you subdue a struggling toddler that can crack mountains apart with his head, _and_ do so without grievously hurting him?

And, of course, there was still the problem with the Nine. I could hear a struggle going on back in Brockton Bay; thankfully, there didn't seem to be anything horrific yet, but that could easily change. If a single one of them escaped the League's attention for whatever reason, that could be hundreds dead.

I groaned to myself. This night just got a lot longer.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Interlude**

 _If your quarry goes to ground, leave no ground to go to_.

As Dragon swept another street with freeze-rays, snuffing out the fires spreading over the city, she felt such a saying was quite appropriate.

She had three suits and four times as many drones in the city with her; one of the former and six of the latter were focused solely on trying to contain Burnscar's rampage. The cape was flitting about the inferno she'd created, teleporting too quickly to get a proper lock on.

That was the problem with fighting Burnscar: the longer she fought, the more mobile she became. It was a snowball effect- setting an area on fire allowed her to teleport about, which in turn allowed her to set more areas on fire, and so on. A problem that got exponentially more difficult to handle with each passing moment.

Trying to hit Burnscar in her flames was like trying to catch air. So, one needed to douse the flames, shrink the ground until there was nothing to stand on, and then they could finally move into the kill.

However, that wasn't exactly easy, either. Especially when you were also managing comms between the League, handling evacuations away from the veritable war zone that was downtown, looking for members of the Nine, and helping J'onn fight Crawler.

Speaking of...

Crawler was trying to move the fight into a narrow street, away from the city square. J'onn was back to the old 'Green Dragon' form, multiple arms working to restrain the monstrous cape without making him any stronger. He was bathed in Crawler's acid, but it seemed to have no effect on his Martian biology, thankfully.

She flew a suit overhead, and deployed a nanothorn barricade, tall enough that Crawler couldn't leap over it. She'd already deployed several others, and now Crawler was fully boxed in the city square. Normally, he would've already exposed himself to their effects so he could develop an immunity, but J'onn's presence was a deterent. If he moved in, then J'onn could simply shove him right through the thorns, too quick to adapt.

Still, it was a risk.

Once the barrier was erected, Crawler stopped in his tracks, allowing J'onn to fling him back towards the center of the square. Slithering close to the ground, the Martian darted towards the monstrous cape, and began to try and restrain his limbs with dozens of tentacles. At the same time, Dragon fired more containment foam over Crawler, completely coating him. The formula was an improved version, thanks to what she'd found in the Kryptonian archives; it had three times the tensile strength.

Unfortunately, there was only so much it could do against Crawler. His armor plating was slick; oftentimes the foam simply slid off, and his acid could neutralize what did stick to him.

Crawler tore free of the foam, and swiped a massive paw at J'onn's head. The Martian phased halfway through the blow, then turned solid again, severing the offending limb at the elbow. Before the arm even hit the ground, Crawler had already regrown a bigger one, with thicker armor plating.

"J'onn, this is getting nowhere," Dragon said over the channel.

 _I am aware_ , he replied. _I was probing_.

"Probing for what?"

J'onn didn't reply. Instead, he shrunk back down to his 'Manhunter' form, his entire body translucent as he changed states, then plunged right into Crawler's chest.

There was a half-moment's pause, then Crawler reared up on his hind legs, pawing at his chest. Hot blood spewed from his mouth, and Dragon could see his entire body trying to adapt, armor plates protruding from his skin at odd angles.

Then, he exploded.

It was too quick, too violent for Crawler to adapt to. In less than a second, he was a fine red mist sprayed all over the town square, with nothing larger than a teaspoon remaining of him. Some of the spray managed to even hit Dragon's suit, despite being over two hundred feet up.

J'onn stood up in the epicenter of the carnage, a good thirty feet in height, and not a single drop of blood on him.

"Crawler's down," he said simply. "I'm moving up to assist Legend; we need to capture one alive."

"Why?"

"They wouldn't start trouble here without a big plan, and I'm going to find out just what that is."

Dragon acknowledged, then focused the now-free suit onto quelling Burnscar's fires. With an extra suit in the mix, she finally began to make some headway, instead of just stopping the fires from spreading any further. Slowly but surely, she began to whittle them down.

There was a flash of light from above as Legend fired a particularly powerful blast, accompanied by the sound of breaking glass. A few moments passed, then he flew down to meet up with J'onn, an unconscious Shatterbird in his arms. After handing her over to the Martian, he then began help Dragon contain the flames, snuffing them out with freezing lasers of his own. 

**S**

It was fairly simple to wake her up again. Keeping her immobilized and unable to use her power, on the other hand, required focus. There was nothing she could do to harm him, but he didn't want to risk her being able to scream again.

J'onn descended to the street and shoved Shatterbird against a brick wall, returning to his natural form as he did so. He towered over her, glaring as he clutched her throat.

 _What is Jack planning?_ he demanded.

With her power shut down, she was as naked as the day she was born, but she paid no thought to it as she glared back at him.

"I won't say a word to a formless slime from the red world," she spat in Arabic, her voice a faint whisper.

 _This formless slime just offered the easy way out_ , he replied, with the mental equivalent of a sigh.

His orange eyes began to glow, and he touched a hand to her head. His fingers split into small tendrils, gently touching her skin.

 _I'll just have to try... harder_.

She began to whimper shortly after that. 

**S**

Weld hovered over the rooftop that the drone had specified, Dennis floating alongside him.

" _Thermal imaging indicates that Bonesaw is up to something on the second floor_ ," Dragon reported. " _She has a pair of creations acting as bodyguards. One's on the third floor, the other is right alongside her_."

"Got it," Weld said. "Anything I should know about them?"

" _They most likely have the powers of multiple capes, but they're not in the best shape, being reanimated and all. Still, be careful_."

"Always am."

" _Good. Now, Clockblocker, Siberian was last spotted heading a few blocks east. Burnscar's finally down, so Legend will be flying over to assist, but you might be the only one that can consistently trump her powers. I need you there, on the scene_."

"Oh, no problem," Dennis muttered. "Just going after an indestructible naked cannibal. No problem at all."

 _"I heard that_."

"You were meant to," he replied, and began to fly in that direction.

Weld watched him go, then looked down with a sigh, tightening his grip on the controls. He didn't quite have the same hormonal system as a normal person, but he could still feel nervous.

Going after Bonesaw was reason enough to be nervous.

"Deploying now," he said.

With one deft motion, he unclipped his restraints and slipped out of the controls, hurtling down. Like a swimmer going for a dive, he crossed his arms and held his legs straight, minimizing air resistance.

He plowed through the roof like it was made of cardboard, plaster and concrete shattering under his steel feet. The floor held as he landed, if only barely, and he immediately began shifting one of his hands into a sword bigger than a claymore.

One of Bonesaw's creations whirled about to face him. It may have once been a woman in life, but now it was some _thing_ , standing a good seven feet tall. Its face had been distorted, brought forward to look more like a rat, and drool dribbled down between its crudely-placed fangs. Small, beady eyes glared at him, nearly hidden away by skin that had been folded and stretched in places, and it flexed machete-like fingers that dragged on the ground.

Weld moved before the creation could. He swung his sword-hand right at its head, only for it to duck under the blow and swipe at him with its claws. They scratched against his metal skin, failing to find any real purchase, and he swiped them away with his free hand, snapping half of them. Blood spattered against his face from the mangled fingers, but he paid it no heed.

The creation moved back, trying to put some distance between them, but he leapt forward and slashed its belly open with his sword-hand. Intestines began to pop out of the gash, but it didn't seem to slow the creature down a bit. Backhanding him across the cheek with its uninjured claws, it sent him flying down the hall.

As soon as he hit the ground, it teleported on the spot, but he was quick to recover. Swiping out its legs with a kick, he sprang to his feet and grabbed the creation by the ankles. With nary a grunt, he swung it at a nearby wall. It smashed through in an explosion of plaster, and it was barely back on its feet before he charged and shoulder decked it through the next wall.

He shifted a hand into a hammer, and swung down, the creation's ribs snapping like toothpicks as its chest was caved in. It tried to swipe at him with its unbroken bladed hand, but he simply sliced the arm off at the elbow.

Shifting his hands back into normal shape, he picked up the creation and swung it up into the ceiling, drywall cracking with the impact. It fell back down with a wet sound, but was still moving on broken limbs, crawling towards him. The wounds were even beginning to knit back together, however slowly.

He brought a hammer-hand down on its back, crushing most of its torso, then began to pound on its head, splintering the hardwood flooring. The skull shattered fairly easily, but he was surprised to see that there was no brain matter oozing out. It must've been moved.

Picking the creature back up, he smashed it _through_ the floor, then jumped through the crater, landing right on top of it. Bone crunched beneath his feet, and blood sprayed out, painting the walls red.

And yet the creature was still alive.

He moved in to crush the skull more thoroughly, only for something to land on his back. It crawled over to his torso, and he realized it was one of Bonesaw's metal spiders, using plastic feet to move. A syringe began to spray a corrosive, hissing where it made contact on his metal skin, but it barely made any progress before he smashed the spider with a slap.

More were coming down through the hole in the ceiling. He speared one through the thorax, then cut another in half. The last one managed to land right on his head, but he simply crushed its body in his hand.

Unfortunately, that gave time for the creation to heal.

It shoulder-decked him with a half-broken arm, then picked him up and slammed him back down. He kicked it away, but it teleported right in front of him as soon he was on his feet. It moved to swipe at him again, but he shoved it away, then cut off its head with a sword-hand.

It was still alive.

Kicking it square in the chest, he sent it flying back into the wall. The creature fell to its hands and knees, giving him time to rip the bathroom sink out of the wall and smash it over its back. While it was sprawled on the floor, he punched into its torso, searching for anything that could be a controller.

There. A conjoined brain where the heart should be, contained in a jar and surrounded by needles. Firmly grasping it, he ripped it clean of the creature's body, then shattered it in his hand.

The creature was finally still, but when it came to Bonesaw's work, he wanted to be absolutely sure.

Grabbing it by the ankles, he dragged it out of the bathroom and into the main hallway. Swinging the body like a discus, he tossed it through the brick wall and down to the street, three stories below. The body splattered against the asphalt, painting half the street with blood.

He watched for a good minute, studying the mashed-up remains.

It didn't move a twitch.

Satisfied, he wiped the blood from his hands, then looked for the stairs that'd lead to the second floor.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **10.03**

So, how exactly does one restrain a flailing toddler the size of a bear? A toddler that could flatten a country with in a tantrum, or burn a hole in a mountain with his breath?

Better yet: how do you restrain him without killing him?

I was going to find out.

Doomsday seemed to have given up on trying to fight me, after that last hit. Fight had switched to flight in a moment, and his tactics were changing accordingly. Already healed, he fired his breath weapon at me, trying to knock me away, then focused entirely on making a successful retreat.

Legs pumping, he shot through the water like a torpedo, faster than something that big had the right to be. At first, he seemed to be aiming for the surface, then he decided on just trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

He didn't get very far.

Catching him by the leg, I flew above the waves, then began to grapple with him, restraining his massive limbs. I recalled the _Torquasm Vo_ training I'd taken for a few days, back when I was starting up the League, and promptly slipped into the proper hold, nails digging into his leathery hide as I got him into something almost like a full nelson.

He was strong, true, but I was even stronger, and he fought without any finesse. It wasn't easy, trying to get him into the hold; his arms were thicker than my torso. Strength prevailed were leverage couldn't, thankfully, and I began to fly towards Brockton Bay.

Unfortunately, even if Doomsday couldn't break my hold by overpowering me, he still had a few options. He might've had a rough human anatomy, but there were some things he had that others didn't.

Chiefly, nigh-indestructible crystalline spikes in his elbows: each the size of a broadsword, and sharper than an obsidian blade. Coupled with his immense strength, and they made for impressive weapons.

I let out a small grunt as the tip of a spike stabbed into my side fast enough to turn the air into plasma, piercing my skin. It barely got deeper than half a centimeter, and actually chipped from the impact, but it was still something. The wound was just healing when he jabbed at it again, then worked at the other side as well.

He must've realized it was working, because he began to do it even faster, stabbing at me like a jackhammer. The wounds began to deepen and multiply as he kept at it, and I almost lost my grip as the pain intensified.

" _Nago'i djica!_ " he howled. " _Mi nago'i djica!"_

 _Me no want._

I paused. He could already speak some Kryptonese? It was like how a child would say it, but for something that'd only been alive for a few weeks at most… just how quickly was he learning?

Did that mean I could try and talk him down?

"I don't wan't to hurt you!" I barked in Kryptonese. "I'm here to help you!"

"No!" he wailed. "Me am hurt from you! No want, no want!"

Well, that didn't work. Unfortunately, it made sense; why would he want to trust someone who broke his jaw a few minutes ago? If he really did have the mind of a toddler, then it'd be hard to explain "oh hey, I just _mistook_ you for death machine, and now I want you to be my friend".

One of the spikes got too deep, and I reflexively let go. Doomsday fell in an uncontrolled tumble, but it'd be a short while before he'd hit the surface of the sea.

I took advantage of that to let my wounds heal. The cuts were already sealing up, yet I couldn't help but feel a little… _fatigued_. That was something I wasn't used to; the last time I'd felt even a little tired was during my fight with Leviathan.

That was different, though. Powerful as he was, Doomsday was no Endbringer. At least, not yet; that could easily change with time, if he got more exposure to sunlight. At the same time, though, I wasn't fighting to kill; I had to refrain from more powerful hits, and try my best to keep him contained.

In a way, it was more difficult than fighting an Endbringer.

I decided to activate my comms, keeping an eye on Doomsday as he fell.

"Dragon, this is Superwoman. I need your help with some-."

"Before you say anything more," Dragon interrupted, speaking much quicker than a human could, "there's something urgent I need to alert you of. Something bad."

I felt an icy pit form in my stomach. When it came to the Nine, something bad could range from 'dozens slaughtered' to 'half the city is dead'.

"What is it?" I asked.

"J'onn read Shatterbird's mind," Dragon replied. "Bonesaw's preparing a bioweapon that'd make the Black Death look like the common cold. At least two bombs, and it's linked to-"

"A deadman's switch in Doomsday's chest," I finished. "That's the case, isn't it?"

"You already figured that out. Good. Now, there's no telling if we can simply disarm Bonesaw's bombs, and it's possible that she might set them once she realizes it's clear that the Nine's not going to win this."

"So we need to get rid of them," I said. "Anyone on the scene who's available?"

"That can safely get the bombs away in time? Just you, and maybe J'onn. Problem is, we also need to keep Doomsday restrained and alive."

I paused, running a few scenarios through my head. Then, I flew down and caught Doomsday again, slipping into the same hold as before.

"I think I have an idea," I finally said.

With that, I began to fly back to Brockton Bay.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **Interlude**

"Hurry!" Wells shouted.

Cooper risked a glance down the long hallway, and almost wished he hadn't. Mannequin was stalking after them, too tall to stand up straight, his movements inhumanly graceful. The tinker quickened his pace, and Cooper made the decision to fire off a few shots. Most of them missed, but a few managed to crack armor over Mannequin's torso, knocking the cape back a few steps

The two men arrived at the end of the hallway. Wells ducked into a room, and Cooper followed shortly after, locking the door behind him. He whirled around, keeping his rifle trained on the door.

Wells grabbed a table and flipped it on its side, pushing it against the door, and Cooper began to pile on chairs. All the while, soft footsteps approached, a metallic clang to them. Mannequin was toying with them, Cooper knew, moving slower to savor the fun.

Hopefully, that'd come to bite him in the ass.

The footsteps stopped, then a buzzsaw began to cut through the door like butter, moving downwards. Cooper raised his rifle and opened fire, peppering the door with new holes. There was the sound of something shattering, and the buzzsaw retracted. For a few moments, there was silence.

Cooper frowned. There was no way that could take out the tinker; there was something else at play, and he didn't want to know what.

"Here!" Wells handed him a nano-knife. "No other doors; we need to make one!"

"On it, Sarge!"

Cooper ran over to the opposite wall and began to stab at the drywall, hacking it away in big chunks. Behind him, he could hear Wells piling on more chairs, occasionally taking a few shots with his SMG.

A moment later, Mannequin's arm punched through the door, a chain trailing behind it. The bladed limb imbedded itself in the wall just a few inches from Cooper's head, and he saw that it was coated in blood.

"Fuck!" he heard Wells holler.

Turning, he saw his friend leaning against the counter, clutching at a gash in his stomach. The blade had sliced clean through the bulletproof vest, and into flesh. With a pang of nausea, Cooper realized he could even see some of Wells' intestines threatening to pop out of the cut. Blood was pouring out, pooling on the floor.

Shit.

In his peripheral vision, he saw that the chain attached to the arm was growing taut as Mannequin pulled it back. In one deft motion, he brought his knife down, and severed the chain. It fell limp, then shot back through the hole in the door.

Rising to his feet, Cooper emptied his magazine in Mannequin's direction, then ran over to grab Wells.

"Come on!" he roared. "Get up, ya lazy bastard!"

"Just leave me," Wells managed to croak. "My guts are fuckin' hanging out, Coop."

"Fat chance," Cooper replied.

He began to drag Wells over, then resumed making the hole in the wall. When the drywall was weakened enough, he smashed his shoulder into it, and broke through into a bathroom.

Sparing a glance over, he saw that Mannequin was breaking through the barricade. Wells managed to open fire with his SMG, clipping the tinker, but it was only a delaying measure.

Cursing to himself, Cooper grabbed Wells, and pulled him through the hole in the wall. Kicking the bathroom door open, he saw that it led to _another_ hallway.

Better than nothing. Redoubling his efforts, he began to drag his friend behind him.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He never thought he'd be fighting a Brute in hand to hand. But, he supposed, there was a time for everything.

Hatchet Faced moved first, swinging a meaty arm at his head. He ducked beneath the blow, then delivered an uppercut to the cape's chin, followed by a reverse elbow to the cheek. Hatchet Face seemed to barely register the punches, but Spoon kept at it, ducking and weaving out of the way of clumsy swings, and delivering well-aimed punches to the temple and jaw.

Finally, a light shove made contact, and Spoon hit the counter hard. It hurt like a bitch, but it wasn't particularly life-threatening. He recovered in time to sidestep out of the way as Hatchet Face charged, the cape smashing part of the counter to pieces.

Crouching low, he grabbed at the hatchet on the ground, and hefted it in both hands. Hatchet Face was bearing on his general direction again, a low growl escaping the man. Grunting, Spoon swung the weapon right at Hatchet Face's head, catching the cape right in the eye.

The effect was rather satisfying. Hatchet Face let out a rather unflattering shriek, then bucked like a bronco, knocking Spoon onto the table. He grabbed at the hatchet in his eye, then apparently decided against it. Teeth clenched, the cape bore down on Spoon again, swatting a chair out to the way-

-just in time for Spoon to deliver a kick to the wooden handle of the hatchet.

Hatchet Face bellowed as the hatchet was knocked out of his eye and into the nearby wall. Spoon hopped of the table and grabbed a chair, swinging it at the cape's head. It made contact in an explosion of splinters, and Hatchet Face stumbled against the table, a hand clutched over his eye.

Spoon took the opportunity to rush forward, tackling Hatchet Face unto the table. Unsheathing his nano-knife, he began to rapidly shank the cape's chest and stomach as fast as he could, recalling the training he received in basic. Blood spattered against his face, painting the walls in spurts as he brought the knife down again and again, to the point where he could barely see past it all.

"Fucking fuck motherfucking twat!" he shouted, each syllable punctuated by a stab. "All fucking cunts, the lot of ya!"

Pausing, he suddenly dove a hand into a gash in Hatchet Face's stomach, grabbing for the cape's intestines. The fucker wasn't bleeding fast enough for his liking, but hopefully an evisceration would change that.

As soon as he pulled, however, a weak swing from the cape caught him in the chest, and he fell off the table. He jumped to his feet immediately, and saw Hatchet Face getting back up, albeit slowly.

The knife was too far away, now. Time to switch tactics.

Reaching to the counter, he grabbed a few plates and threw them at Hatchet Face, aiming for the wounds he'd already made.

"You fuckin' want a piece of me, eh? You wanna fuckin' go!"

He slid down the counter, grabbing for anything he could find. Utensils, dishes, pots, pans; if it was there, he threw it at Hatchet Face. Most of them didn't make contact, instead smashing into the walls, but the few that did were enough to keep the wounded cape at bay.

At some point, he realized he was screaming at the top of his lungs, but he didn't stop.

Eventually, he found the handle of a frying pan. Hefting it in his hands, he beat it against the counter.

"Let's go! Let's fuckin' go!"

He lunged forward, and swung the pan at Hatchet Face's gut.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"I'm out!" Cooper hollered, tossing his rifle away.

Wells unholstered his pistol with shaking hands. "Got a few rounds left. Make 'em count."

Cooper spared a glance through the peephole. Mannequin was moving slowly, now that he'd chased them into a dead end. The tinker didn't seem to be too perturbed by the loss of his forearm, though there was no telling what thoughts were lurking behind that featureless expanse of white plastic. Was he thinking of all the different ways to make them suffer, to make their deaths as slow and painful as possible?

"I'm starting to feel really dizzy, Coop." Wells glanced down at his intestines, threatening to pop out of his wound. "Sausages."

"Just hang in there. We'll be fine," Cooper lied.

He turned the safety off, and took aim. After a moment's thought, he went to move Wells out of the direct line of sight; it wouldn't do any good if Mannequin repeated the same trick as before.

Just as he turned back, he saw the doorknob turning.

Mannequin stooped into the room, head hanging limply as he regarded the two. A blade the size of a stiletto sprang out of the tinker's good arm, and it swung menacingly from the chain, as if to demonstrate what would come next

Cooper took aim again, and prepared to pull the trigger.

At that moment, something else happened.

A pair of black fists punched through the wall behind Mannequin, then took hold of the tinker's torso. Before Mannequin could react, he was pulled through the wall, dust billowing into the room.

"Run!" the Batman roared. "I've got him! Just run!"

Cooper didn't need to think twice. Grabbing Wells, he carried him back down the hall, towards the stairs. Behind him, he could hear a hell of a fight going on, accompanied by the sounds of another wall breaking.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Spoon dodged a clumsy punch from Hatchet Face, then swung the pan into the cape's cheek with a satisfying clang, snapping his head back and sending a tooth flying. It was liking hitting stone, but even stone gave way to a hammer.

Or, in this case, a frying pan.

He was still screaming like a berserker from the days of old, furiously pounding away at Hatchet Face. The cape was moving slower and slower, and each hit brought another bruise or a broken bone. For the hundredth time, Spoon blessed the family who'd decided to get an old cast iron pan.

With one last hit, Hatchet Face toppled, scalded eyes rolling up as blood trickled from his nose. His chest rose one last time, a low gurgle accompanying it, then went still. Spoon panted for a few moments, then raised the pan again, to make sure the bastard was truly dead.

Suddenly, the pan was knocked out of his hands, and he felt a hand grab his throat, hoisting him into the air like he was as light as a kitten. Before he knew it, he was pinned to the wall, facing a _very_ unhappy looking Siberian. The woman bared her teeth, and he knew what would come next.

Despite himself, there was something humorous about it. When he always imagined dying with a fit bird holding him, he never imagined it like _this._

Giving his gum one last chew, he narrowed his eyes, staring into her own golden ones.

"I hope I give you the shits, ya _fucking wimp_."

He spat his gum in her face, prompting a low snarl, even as it slid down her skin without leaving a trace.

The Siberian moved in to begin her meal-

-and suddenly vanished when a hand slapped a piece of paper over her face.

Spoon landed on his feet, and looked up to see Clockblocker standing a few feet away.

"What."

"Dude, just run," Clockblocker urged. "She's gonna be back any minute, and you don't want to be there when it happens."

For a moment, Spoon simply stared, then he saw Cooper through the doorway, carrying a wounded Wells.

"You sure you don't-"

"You fucking took down Hatchet Face. You've earned a break."

Spoon gave the boy a firm pat on the shoulder, then ran after his friends. Above him, he could hear some kind of fight going on, but ultimately decided he'd be of no contribution, especially if the person he suspected was actually up there.

"What happened, Spoon?" Cooper asked.

Spoon slipped in to help carry Wells, and chuckled.

"You wouldn't fuckin' believe me."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Weld crept down the stairs, a hand extended into a sword. The door to the second floor's hall was ajar, and he slowly swung it open, looking down both ways.

" _To the right_ ," Dragon said over the comms. " _She seems to be in an empty room; another creation is guarding the door._ "

"Understood," he whispered.

The floor was made of hardwood, and he cringed as it creaked under each step he took. Being a six hundred pound statue had its advantages in combat, but stealth was not one of them. Hopefully, Bonesaw was too distracted to hear it, though the same likely couldn't be said for her creation.

Sure enough, he could hear something approaching the corner at the same time as him, something _big_. Its breathing was heavy, a phlegmy rattle to it, and he could've sworn it was _sniffing_ for him.

Might as well make it quick, then. Extending his other hand into a blade, he waited until it got closer, then whirled around the corner.

The creation almost looked like a centaur; an incredibly muscular man provided the lower body, while a rail-thin one was attached to the neck, his skeletal arms hanging loosely to the sides. It stared at him with dead eyes, hidden behind greasy long hair.

Weld didn't let it make a move before he slashed it across the 'neck' separating the two bodies. The lower body fell limply to the ground, dead, but the upper one was regenerating, bones sticking out as they were coated in connective tissues and muscle. Weld simply smashed its chest in with a hammer-hand, then made sure the head was also reduced to mush. When it didn't regenerate from that, he moved on.

The room Bonesaw had to be was behind a simple door. He paused for a moment, listening for anything he had to be wary of. For all he knew, she could be preparing another weapon to attack him, or finishing the touches on the bioweapon Dragon had mentioned.

Taking a deep breath, he kicked the door down, and dashed inside.

Nothing greeted him in combat, not even some of Bonesaw's spiders. There was a strange canister in the corner of the room, as big as a refrigerator, but it didn't seem to be active. The bomb that'd deliver the bioweapon, no doubt.

Eyes scanning the room, he saw that the girl was standing right by the window, staring outside. She had a palm pressed against the glass, and Weld could make out her reflection- her face was unusually dour.

"I heard you come in," she said, almost a whisper. "In fact, I can hear almost everything."

Weld froze. He looked around, searching for any death traps or more of her creations, but couldn't find any. Still, he stayed ready for anything that could be thrown his way.

"Did you know that the human eye is incredibly limited?" she continued. "It was meant as nothing more than a tool of survival, letting us see danger from a distance. It never evolved beyond what was needed, really. Depending on how you interpret it, we can only see two percent of the spectrum."

She pulled her hand away, staring at it. Weld took a step forward, painfully aware of how the wood creaked beneath his metal feet. When she didn't react, he took another step forward, then stopped.

"I can see x-rays," Bonesaw breathed. "I can see radio waves bouncing off the ionosphere, like ripples in a pond. It's all... m-magnified, enhanced. It's like I've been blind my whole life, and just now I'm starting to see."

She turned to face him. Weld continued forward, but she gave no reaction. No doubt she still had deadman switches on her; he needed to go in for a nonlethal apprehension. Reaching into his jacket, he grabbed for a set of zip-ties.

"Frankenstein's Monster. Heh. Always liked the movie... Shatterbird was always so snobbish to it, citing how the book was so much more sophisticated. I guess I made my own Adam, but I don't know how much longer he has."

Weld moved quickly. Grabbing Bonesaw by the wrists, he bound them with the zip-ties, then flipped her over his shoulder, slamming her into the floor. He planted a firm knee on her back, holding her in place.

"Your bioweapon," he said. "How do we disarm it?"

"You can't," she replied, voice muffled. "I made it foolproof; there's no way to disarm it, and just about any attempt will just set it off."

She let out a small laugh, but there was no humor in it. "So many things became beautiful, when I made my eyes like hers, but other things became _ugly_. At first, I thought that somehow that alien mentality of hers managed to infect me, alter my brain chemistry, but I'm not so sure anymore. You can't hide anything from eyes like these; I guess I can't even hide from myself."

Weld activated his comms. "This is Weld. I have Bonesaw in custody right now. One of the biobombs is here."

" _Understood,_ " Dragon replied. " _We'll be arriving shortly, once we contain Doomsday._ "

"It's funny, isn't it?" Bonesaw murmured. "When I finally see how _ugly_ I've become, it's when I'm about to do the ugliest thing in my life."

She turned her neck as much as possible. "Well, in twenty minutes, anyway."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dennis was glad he let Emma talk him into taking up running; it was probably what was going to save his life.

It was completely unfair that the Siberian didn't have to worry about obstacles in the slightest. Car in the way? No sweat. Walls? What walls? She didn't slow her stride in the slightest, regardless of whether there was a traffic cone or a concrete block in the way.

He hopped over a fallen telephone pole, and made sure to freeze it behind him. Risking a glance back, he saw the Siberian make contact with it, and vanish. A few moments passed, then she was back, like she'd never even left. A teleporter, or something else at play?

He never liked the PHO memes about him, about his so-called catchphrase; whenever he went to a public event, that's what all his fans screamed. He'd only said it once, after apprehending a particularly troublesome villain with rather odd powers, but it'd stuck to him like glue.

And yet, in this moment, he felt it was appropriate.

Siberian was _bullshit._

He turned around a street corner, his boots skidding over the damp asphalt for a sphincter-clenching moment, then he was running at full speed. He tried to remember the breathing exercises Emma had suggested, about inhaling through the nose and out through the mouth, keeping up a rhythm that you could just fall into.

It was hard to focus on a rhythm when your lungs burned with each breath, and your legs seemed more and more like taffy with each passing moment.

Siberian burst out of a nearby wall, having decided to take the shortest route. Dennis ducked, sliding on the asphalt, and managed to just avoid getting eviscerated by a almost-casual swipe. Hopping back to his feet, he reached for some paper in his belt, whirling about to face her.

He froze a sheet just in time to block a hit from Siberian. She flickered out of existence, the paper flittering to the ground, and he used the delay to freeze another piece behind him as he started running again.

"I could use some help, Legend," he panted. "Anytime would be good."

As if on cue, a laser shot down from the heavens, washing over the Siberian. It did nothing to harm her, naturally, but it seemed to catch her attention. Without a word, she leapt up, her feet somehow gaining leverage on the very _smoke_ kicked up by the blast.

Legend soared above her, continuing to pelt her with lasers. Dennis watched the spectacle in the sky, greedily gulping in lungfuls of air. After a few moments, however, Legend suddenly flew off. Siberian stood on a few dust motes, watching, then fell back to the ground without a sound.

"Way to disappoint," Dennis muttered.

He began running again, but it was more difficult this time; now that his body had a few moments to rest, it didn't want to keep up the strain. He couldn't blame it, but he would also curse it for all eternity if that got him eaten by a naked cannibal.

Granted, she was an utter bombshell, but the whole slowly-eating-innocent-people-alive a bit of a red flag.

Siberian was gaining on him, punching through abandoned cars like they were soap foam. Dennis skidded to a halt, then turned to face her, grabbing for some paper in his belt. There was no way he could keep this up forever, especially against Siberian, but he could keep her occupied.

Before she reached him, however, her eyes widened, and she vanished.

"Huh," was all Dennis could muster.

" _Siberian down,_ " Dragon reported. " _Clockblocker, I'm sending a drone to pick you up; we need you for something else._ "

"Define 'something else'."

"If I told you, you wouldn't like it."

Dennis sighed. "I'm already not liking it."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"All these years," Duncan murmured, looking down at the unconscious body on the ground. "She seemed invincible, but all this time she was just a projection. Good job figuring that out, Dragon."

"I did part of it," Dragon replied. "J'onn was the one who first started to suspect it."

After a moment, she said, "It must be good for you. Getting some payback, or closure, after all these years."

Duncan slowly shook his head. "No, it doesn't feel like that. I'm just glad he'll never be able to hurt someone again."

J'onn descended to the ground beside him. A moment passed, and a drone deposited Clockblocker on the ground.

"Defiant's currently wrapping things up with Mannequin, and Weld has Bonesaw," Dragon said. "I'm securing the sites of the bombs, but we're going to need Superwoman to get rid of them, and we need to act _fast._ "

"How fast?" Duncan asked.

"We have fifteen minutes before the bombs go off," came the reply. "And to get rid of the bombs, we first need to help Superwoman do something before she can handle that."

"What could she need our help with?" Clockblocker asked.

As if on cue, a massive shape hurtled to the ground a good fifty feet away from the group, then rose. Duncan's eyes widened when he realized it was none other than _Doomsday_.

Lurching to its feet, the creature was suddenly plowed back into the ground by a red blur. A grappling match broke out, moving so fast for the eye to see.

"We need to contain _that_ ," Dragon said.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **10.04**

Doomsday was flailing with the kind of ferocity you'd only see in a rabid dog. He twisted and lashed out, trying to escape my grip, even as I held him in a move that was threatening to break his arms. His elbow protrusions continued to jab away at me, but I could sense that he was weakening, growing tired.

Legend and Dragon were the first to react when I brought Doomsday down into the street. Not surprising, considering the speeds we were moving at. A massive pair of lasers from Legend struck Doomsday in the ankles, spinning him about, and I used the opportunity to slam him into the street, pulverizing the asphalt underneath.

He sprang back to his feet, only for two of Dragon's suits to rocket ahead, firing grappling cables that wrapped themselves around his arms and legs. Already he began to tear free, snapping them like old string or simply cutting through them with his spines, only to stop when they suddenly became timelocked. They strained against his skin, threatening to cut, and he paused.

" _Me no want!_ " he bellowed, loud enough to make Legend and Clockblocker wince. " _No hurt me!_ "

"Wait," J'onn said. "That sounds-"

"Hold him!" I barked at Dragon.

There was a good two hundred feet of steel cable lying in a warehouse a few blocks down; I flew over and grabbed it before Dragon could even hear my order. It was just in time, too; the batteries for her timestop equipment were already close to drained.

Thankfully, we had a far better source of that ability.

Just when the power was about to run out, I went on the move. I bound Doomsday's legs first, tying them together, then restrained his arms to his chest, almost like I was making some giant Kryptonian mummy. Finally, I looped it around his jaws, so he wouldn't be able to fire his heat-breath while contained.

With that done, I flew over to Clockblocker, and handed him the end of the cable.

"Freeze," I said.

Clockblocker did as told, just as Dragon's gadget ran out of power, and Doomsday was finally secured. He himself wasn't frozen, but that wasn't especially important, considering that he was still bound by the timelocked cables. Even he couldn't break something stuck in time; he was trapped, now, and now I could finally focus on the other important matter.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Even if Dragon hadn't already marked them down, it would've been child's play to find the bombs. There were three of them scattered around the city, each of them filled with a hundred different viral strains that all made the bubonic plague look like the sniffles. If even one of them got out, it could be hundreds of thousands dead.

Narrowing my eyes, I studied one of them, thinking of how to disable them. Weld was right; outright disarming them wouldn't be a viable option. Trying on any of them would most likely cause it to explode anyway, and even if I _did_ succeed with one, the others would also detonate.

So, I simply grabbed all three of the bombs in the span of a heartbeat, and chucked them out of the atmosphere like softballs. When the timers finally ran out, they were already clearing the orbit of the Moon, detonating harmlessly in the void.

Sometimes, the simplest solution is the easiest one.

Dusting off my hands, I flew back down to where Doomsday was. Legend was floating above, ready to fire as many lasers as he could if anything happened, and Dragon was setting up nanothorns, hemming the Kryptonian hybrid in.

Once he saw me, Legend descended gently to the ground. Shatterbird and some older-looking man were bound together, unconscious. A drone was coming in the distance, carrying Weld, and Bonesaw along with him. The girl was contained in a plastic container packed full of containment foam, and yet she didn't seem concerned about that. In fact, there was a distant look in her eyes, one that seemed awfully familiar.

"Have the bombs been taken care of?" Legend asked.

I nodded. "They won't be a problem."

He let out a sigh of relief. "That's good to hear."

"We still have a few problems on our hands," Dragon said. "We still haven't found Jack, and how are we going to get rid of this Doomsday monster?"

"Well, we don't have to worry about the deadman's switch anymore," Legend offered. "I think we could-"

"No," I said.

They all turned to look at me.

"Superwoman," Dragon began, "it's too dangerous to let live; the thing's a weapon made from your own genetic structure. It's only going to get stronger the longer we let it live, and there's no surefire way to contain such a thing."

"We're not killing _him_ ," I said. "He's not some mindless creature; the Nine made him _sentient,_ probably in the hopes that this exact situation would occur. They _want_ us to kill him, someone who's essentially a giant baby."

Clockblocker coughed. "A giant baby that can suplex Mt. Everest."

I shot him a glare. "Does that make him less innocent? For God's sake, he began to _cry_ when I was fighting him. That bellowing you heard?"

"It was Kryptonese," Dragon finished. "You mentioned that Kryptonians had it hardwired into their brains."

I nodded.

J'onn took a step forward. "I can sense it. There is a mind in there, an innocent one. He's afraid, terrified even. His short life has been full of pain; I cannot blame him for reacting so violently."

I glanced at him. "Do you think you can calm him down?"

In response, he reverted to his natural form, and took to the air.

 _I can try,_ he replied, floating over and touching a hand to Doomsday's head. _His mind is turbulent, but perhaps I can still the waters It will take a fair bit of concentration._

"You have time," I replied.

Already, I could hear Doomsday's heartbeats slow as J'onn worked on him, soothing his mind. Dragon watched for a moment, then looked my way.

"Well, that's one problem solved," she said. "But what about Jack?"

"Leave that to me," I replied. "He's not getting away this time."

I took to the air, then paused.

"J'onn, while I'm away, could you try and talk to Doomsday? I want you to tell him something..."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Jack wasn't exactly hiding where I found him. Not that it would've mattered, anyway, and I suspected he knew it. Instead, he was simply leaning back in a stolen lawn chair on a rooftop by the bay, letting the seabreeze ruffle his hair.

"The main star herself." His voice was strong, confident, with a smooth tenor to it. He sat upright, still smiling. "Tell me, what did you think of the show we put on for you?"

I didn't reply. Floating down a few feet away from him, I folded my arms across my chest, letting my cape flutter in the wind. There was a pregnant silence on the rooftop, and he apparently decided to fill it.

"You know, others might be a bit struck by that pose of yours," he said, slowly rising to his feet. "Me? I don't quite see it. I imagine that most people must see something _more_. An icon, a symbol of hope for a better tomorrow. I know you certainly go for that. Still, I don't see that. Instead, I see a girl not even old enough to drive, wearing a silly red blanket."

He grinned. "And it actually _is_ a blanket, at that! I did quite a lot of reading on you, preparing for the show. The last survivor of some utopian alien world that glittered like a blue star in the heavens, only to be brought down by forces outside their control. A baby, found by some lucky couple, unaware of who their child would become. Honestly, it's like the stuff of poetry."

For a moment, he paused, as if expecting something. When it didn't happen, he pressed on.

"Honestly, I can't believe you haven't lost your patience with us apes and wiped the slate clean. It must be so _irritating_ , knowing that you could've lived on Krypton and enjoyed the wonders of that world, only to be stuck in the mud with the rest of us. I know I would be irritated, to say the least."

"That's where you and I differ," I finally said. "You judge people for what they are, but I see them as who they could be."

Jack rubbed his hands together. "She speaks! Glad to see you aren't trying to keep up that 'silent and brooding' schtick, unlike that aggravating bat fellow. He was no fun to talk to"

He ran a finger under his empty eye socket. "Still, I enjoyed myself. Shame I couldn't finish things, but there's something so much more important on my plate."

"Like me?"

"Exactly. I _do_ wonder why you haven't shut me up yet. Actually enjoying this talk?"

"No."

Jack smiled. "Well, then I suppose it's just business, which is why you haven't turned me in just yet. I imagine you must want to hear something."

"Like what you did with Doomsday," I said.

His grin turned feral. "You do have to admit, it was a clever surprise. Just killing the ones you cared about wouldn't quite cut it. Too hard, too little reward. Considering what I know about you, you'd probably even recover from that with time, and stay the hero in the people's eyes.

He fiddled with a knife in his hand, flicking the blade in and out.

"You know, when I first heard about you, even before Leviathan, I actually thought you were rather _boring_. Just a goody two shoes, acting like the perfect girl scout. Then I looked more into it, saw how you acted, and I realized something. You actually _do_ care about everyone! You were the icon that everyone saw you as! So _of course_ I had to destroy that; how else would I create a lasting legacy."

He spread his hands wide. "And so I created Doomsday, the infant that could shatter the world. Killing you or your friends was out of the question, but making you dirty your hands, pulling you into the mud..."

He frowned. "Hm. Awfully silent. Did I strike a nerve?"

"Just making sure everything's in place," I replied.

"For what?"

I allowed myself a smirk. "You'll see."

And with that, I deactivated his implants.

The effect was immediate. He raised a hand to his empty eye socket, a wince escaping him as he finally experienced the pain.

I was in front of him in an instant, jabbing my fingers into his shoulder at various spots, then backed away. He looked my way, then down to his limp arm.

"Huh. I thought nerve clusters were just something from bad kung fu movies."

"Not when you can see them, and not when you know Torquasm Vo," I replied.

"Orgasm what?"

"Kryptonian martial art," I replied. "An exercise in whether or not you can disable your opponent without actually causing them pain."

He let out a dry laugh. "Of _co_ -"

I didn't let him finish. I jabbed a thumb into a point under his jaw, and he let out a wheeze as his tongue became lax.

"Doomsday's still alive," I said. I worked slower on his leg, letting him take note of each jab, and he fell to the ground. "I saw your trick pretty early, and I managed to subdue him without actually killing him. _You failed_ , Jack."

With a few more jabs, he was completely paralyzed. I gently set him on the ground, then stared at him.

"You're not some insightful philosopher, Jack," I said. "You're not a devil in man's form, even if most think of you as one. You're just a _bully._ You probably had some horrible trauma, like almost every other person with powers. Someone bullied you, whether it was just a kid at school or your parents, and you resented it. But when _you_ had the power, you became a bully yourself.

He glared at me, but could do nothing else as I continued.

"Lots of kids who are bullied become bullies to protect themselves, or to vent their frustration. A lot grow out of it, a lot don't. You, however, are something different. You came to resent the fact that you weren't the bully in your situation, not that you wanted it to stop. So you decided to make up for it. You're not very powerful, compared to others, but you managed to put yourself at the top of a whole group of bullies, and you went around lording that over everyone who couldn't fight back. But you bit off more than you could chew, here. You found the one person you couldn't twist and hurt like the others, the one person you couldn't bully."

I let my eyes glow, like hot coals in the night.

"And I do not like bullies."

I jabbed my fingers into some points long his jawline, and he could speak again.

"You-" he snarled.

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?" I asked.

He seemed to calm down. Working his jaw a little, he tried to put up the same front as before.

"So, where do we go from here? Are you going to fry my face? Take me in? I'm getting a bit impatient."

I listened in to a point far behind me, waiting, then spoke.

"I'm not the one deciding your fate tonight."

At that moment, a massive shape landed behind me, cracking the rooftop. A low growl rolled over the neighborhood, and I could see Jack's eye widen.

"He is."

Doomsday marched over, eyes glowing in the night. I stood up and moved to the side, and he paused to glance my way. There was no longer fear in his eyes, and he even brushed a massive finger over my hair.

Then, he picked up Jack in one hand, fingers that could squeeze coal into diamond gently wrapping themselves around soft flesh. Hoisting the man into the air, he glared right at him, jaw set.

"How does it feel, Jack?" I asked. "To be the victim again? To feel utterly powerless against someone who can make your life as miserable as humanly possible?"

Doomsday's grip tightened, and I could see the starts of that immense energy building in his chest. Despite himself, I could sense the fear in Jack's eyes.

Then, it died down.

Doomsday laid Jack back on the ground, then turned to me.

" _Zara Kal-El,_ " he rumbled. " _Green one, he am friend. He say you am friend, that you am sorry._ "

" _I am sorry for hurting you, earlier,"_ I replied in Kryptonese. " _I am happy to see that you're forgiving._ "

He smiled at that. " _Me no want be person who hurt, after me be hurt. Me no want be him._ "

" _I'm glad you see it that way_."

Dragon's suits were descending, carrying Weld and Clockblocker. From above, J'onn and Legend touched down beside me. I frowned when I didn't see Defiant, but he was still listed as alive. Perhaps he was too busy.

"We're taking him in alive," I said. "Let's show everyone that it doesn't have to be this way anymore."

"You think that's going to change things?" Jack asked, even as Dragon poured containment foam. "It's just a pipe dream."

I shook my head. "You know, you never worry about the truth. You always say it, even if it's in your own way, and you think that gives you an edge in your manipulations."

Leaning in close, I smirked.

"But you can't hide anything from these eyes. For all your manipulative qualities, you're actually a _terrible_ liar."

With that, I grabbed Doomsday by the shoulder, and took off, leaving Jack behind.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Me am thinking better _,_ " Doomsday said. "Green one _-_ "

"J'onn," I interjected.

"J'onn say me am like teenager now. But he say me s-speak brain part no good."

I leaned back, letting the sunlight wash over me. We'd settled down on a small island in the Pacific, and were soaking in the sun. Blue waters lapped against the shore, and Doomsday watched as the waves washed over his bare feet.

"What you name?" he asked.

"Zara," I replied. "Zara Kal-El. We're actually related."

"You am me sister?"

I smiled. "I guess you could say that."

"You mean sister sometime. But you also nice sister." He paused, then put a hand over his chest. "What me name?"

I turned to look at him. "Do you want me to give you a name?"

"Yes."

I paused, thinking. Then, I rose to my feet, trying to look as professional as possible.

"As the sole heir of the House of El, and of the governing body of Krypton, I hereby grant you the name... Kon-El."

"Kon-El," he said. "Me am Kon-El."

I sat back down, then pulled him into a hug. "What do you want to do?"

Kon thought for a few moments. He looked up, breathing in the salty air.

"Me want quiet place. No hurt. Peace."

"Would you want to stay with me?"

He shook his head. "J-J'onn say thing. Say that if live with you, me only see you and you friend. Me want see other, no want hide."

I rubbed my chin.

"I think I have a place in mind," I said.

"Take me there," Kon asked.

Grabbing him by the shoulder, I gently lifted him into the air, and took him.

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Ten: The Long Halloween_**


	29. Arc 11

**11.01**

Dealing with the aftermath was almost as hard as actually fighting the Nine.

Okay, maybe that was an exaggeration; that Halloween was one of the single worst days of my life, even if I got a brother out of it. For a brief moment, the world had been gripped by terror at the thought of some monster made from my flesh, coupled with the threat of hundreds of different bioweapons being potentially released into a populated area.

It was only natural that such an event would also have bad ripple effects.

There was a lot of things to be done during the week after the Nine had been taken away. Over a hundred buildings had been damaged in the downtown area, mainly by Burnscar's fires; the costs were trivial compared to a 'mild' Endbringer attack, or even a typical visit by the Nine, but they were still running to upwards of a billion dollars or more. A thousand people lost their homes, and half that many had been injured.

It was a miracle there were no deaths. There had definitely been close calls; Wells nearly died from an sliced stomach, and a few people were badly trampled during evacuations. Yet, they'd mainly managed to stay safe, thanks to the Janus shelters Fortress Construction had started putting up in a few select locations.

It was something Calvert made sure no one forgot.

Of _course_ he made sure to wholly finance the reparations, even putting his own employees on construction work. If it'd been just about anyone else, I'd just assume it was genuine philanthropy, but there was something about it that made me wary. The speed at which they went to work seemed to suggest greased palms, though there'd been speedy construction projects in the past. New York after Behemoth was pretty notable, and apparently Providence had already rebuilt from Leviathan's short-lived attack.

Still, I couldn't help but note that people began their campaigns for mayoral elections this time of year. Considering how much Brockton Bay was now under the spotlight thanks to me, becoming mayor could easily be a springboard for higher offices; already there were some talks of Mayor Christner running for governor.

If _Calvert_ became governor in the future, or another important office...

I guess I had some more work to do.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

I tapped my foot impatiently, holding the phone in the crook of my neck while I continued making some cosmetic changes to my costume. Now that Brainiac was busy operating the Fortress, I decided I didn't want to take up precious processing power with a request like that.

Besides, sewing had grown on me. There was something enjoyable about going through the motions, weaving together something from just some fibers. With all the hectic stuff going on, I could use some monotony.

Finally, I heard the click as the phone on the other end was picked up.

" _Hello?_ " a stern voice asked.

"Is this Ex-Director Emily Piggot?" I said.

" _Yes. Who are you, may I ask? I don't think I've gotten this number before._ "

"I'm a private investigator looking into Fortress Constructions," I replied. "From what I've uncovered, you and Thomas Calvert were the sole survivors of the Nilbog incident, nine years back. Is that true?"

" _The records are available to read, miss..._ "

"Ellis. Callie Ellis."

" _Miss Ellis. Besides, I'm not the kind of person to divulge such information on a simple call._ "

"I was told that might be the case," I said. "Perhaps you'd be more willing if I told you I'm a friend of John Jones. You can give him a call right now if you need any proof."

" _Give me a moment._ "

I listened in as she called another number, then watched as J'onn picked it up in his office.

" _John?"_

" _Emily? Been a while; how are you?_ "

" _I'm fine. Listen: I just got a call from someone named Callie Ellis, who claims that she knows you. Do you actually have a friend named that?_ "

J'onn blinked, a look of confusion on his face, and I waited for his answer. He seemed to be giving it thought, and I feared he wouldn't catch on.

" _Yes, I_ do," he finally said. _"What's the matter?_ "

" _Nothing._ " Piggot hung up, then called me again. " _Alright, you've made your point. Now, why are you calling me about the Nilbog incident?_ "

" _I've asked a few older PRT vets,_ " I replied. " _Many say that there was a rumor that Calvert shot his commanding officer during evacuations. Is there any truth to that?_ "

Piggot fell silent. " _...I had been sworn into silence about the Nilbog incident by the PRT. However, seeing as the PRT is now a non-entity, I am no longer bound by that agreement. I've been bottling it up for nine years, now, and I guess it's as good a time as any._ "

I heard cushions shifting as she sat up. " _Yes, Thomas Calvert shot his commanding officer. He and I were in the same hospital room after the incident; I still remember the feeling of waking up to hear that I wouldn't be able to serve on more combat missions, all from him. He was quite talkative for some reason; might've been the adrenaline rush that comes with a close brush with death. Either way, he told me of how he shot his commanding officer so he could climb the ladder faster._ "

"Did he face court-martial?"

" _He silently spent three months in jail, then was discharged from the PRT. They felt that his silence on how big a snafu the operation became was worth the lightened sentence._ "

She sighed. " _A lot of good men and women lost their lives that day. I lost my squad, my_ friends _, and they swore me into silence, offering a desk job as a small consolation while a_ murderer _got off practically scot-free. I'm sure you'd feel the same in my shoes._ "

I fell silent for a moment.

"Ma'am, would you testify in court against Calvert?"

" _Can't nail him for the same crime twice, but I can serve as a character witness,_ " Piggot replied. " _When the date comes, feel free to call me._ "

"Thank you," I said, and hung up.

I continued adding the finishing touches to my uniform. The fabric of the suit was now like chainmail, to hearken back to the Kryptonian heroes I'd read of, and to aslo add a bit of shine to the blue. I removed the collar; I didn't know why, but it felt too much like something a ruler would wear. Not to mention, it was always the hardest part to zip up.

The cuffs of my wrists had a few bands of metal wrapped around them, to better house and protect my computers, holographic displays, and commsets. If need be, they could also cover my hands with temporary gloves, so I wouldn't have a repeat of that Noelle situation.

I made the sigil on my chest a bit larger, and highlighted the golden part underneath the red. Along the curve of the symbol, I added in a line, translated and transcribed into Kryptonese: A Better Tomorrow.

I'd also changed how I wore the cape. Now, it was almost like a cloak over my shoulders, instead of being connected to either side of my non-existent collar.

Holding the suit up, I admired my handiwork, then put it back on. I adjusted my cape a little, then flew over to one of the larger rooms in the Fortress. Weld was there, watching the news as he absorbed some more Kryptonian metals, and Dragon was constructing drones and suits.

"They're talking about him again on TV," Weld said.

I sighed, then glanced over at the screen. It was a local station in the Bay, holding an interview with Calvert.

" _...the creature known to the public as 'Doomsday' has yet to be found_ ," the host said. She was a middle-aged woman, with that artificial smile they all practiced. " _Superwoman has already gone on the record that it holds no further threat, yet refuses to divulge its location. What is your opinion on the matter_?"

I groaned. There was another matter to deal with: Kon. Despite what I'd said, trying to assuage any concerns, the world was still terrified of him. Even knowing that he was essentially a child looking for peace and a place in the world, government officials from all around the world were calling for his death, saying that it was the only way to guarantee the public's safety.

Of course, they still didn't know where he went, and I was going to make sure they never found out. Just three days after what people had started calling The Long Halloween, a CUI satellite 'mysteriously' broke up in orbit. The ruling government said that it was just something meant to analyze weather patterns over the Pacific Ocean, tragically lost to a micrometeoroid impact.

Not entirely a lie, but they naturally didn't mention that the patterns it was analyzing were the jet wash I left when flying, especially when carrying something big.

Still, there were a few hunts for Kon, both by small black-ops units and by government parahuman teams. I didn't know why they tried; even if they _did_ find him, just what were they going to do? Slap some handcuffs on him for the crime of _existing_?

" _...certainly believe that Superwoman thinks she's doing the right thing. Whether or not it actually_ is _the right thing? Well, only time will tell,_ Calvert said. _"On the other hand, the fact that she took in several members of the Nine alive is a bit... more disconcerting._ "

I gritted my teeth.

" _They've been disabled, thanks to the League,_ " the reporter said. " _It's believed that they won't be able to try anything before their trial, where it's expected they'll receive the death penalty. Some argue that the kill-orders were made because the Nine would be too dangerous to capture, and so Superwoman's success in that department is not a violation of the decree._ "

" _A very... idealistic approach, I admit. But how many lives in the future may be endangered by that_?"

"Don't let it get under your skin, Taylor," Dragon said, a humaniform suit glancing over, while a veritable tank stocked tools. "There's always going to be someone giving us trouble, but that doesn't meant they're right."

"Thanks," I mumbled, and made for the door.

"Hey, Tay," Weld said.

I glanced over to see Weld walking up to me. He smiled warmly, and I found myself reciprocating, even considering everything else going on.

"Hey," I said, softly. "What's up?"

"Well, I was thinking," he said. "I've noticed you've been pretty busy this last week, with everything going on. Speeches, recovery work... you've also been going on patrol a lot more than usual."

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Yeah, I guess that's been the case. It's been pretty hectic, huh?"

"That's why I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh?"

"Date on Friday? There's a concert in Boston I wanted to check out, and I think you'd like it, too."

I smiled. "Friday... Friday sounds good. What time?"

"Eight."

I leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Meet me at my place at seven?"

He grinned. "Sure."

"Good." Another kiss. "I'll see you then."

I pulled away, then made for the exit. It was perpetual night out, and I didn't need fifty different kinds of vision to see the aurora borealis. For a moment, I simply stood there, basking in the soft light, listening to the wind.

Then, I flew up into the sky. There was still a lot of work to do, and not much time to do it.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **11.02**

The receptionist managed to remain rather calm when she saw me striding up, all things considered. Aside from a slight increase in heart rate, and a warmer bloom of infrared over her cheeks, she gave no sign of being nervous.

"Is... there something I can do for you, miss?" she asked.

"I would like to speak with your employer," I replied.

A dry swallow. "Allow me."

She tapped a button on the desk with a dainty finger. "Sir, someone wishes to have a meeting with you."

"There's an open slot in two hours. Can this visitor wait-"

"Sir, it's Superwoman."

A pause. I could hear paper tearing, along with a long breath taken through clenched teeth.

"Very well then," he finally exhaled. "Send her in."

The secretary removed her finger, and calmly folded her hands. "He'll see you right now."

"Thank you," I replied, and walked into the office.

The set-up was... well, it was something. Accord certainly seemed to be fond of minimalist designs, that was for sure. Lots of glass, high-grade plastics, and silver. His desk was made from mahogany and inlaid with silver; all of his work supplies were carefully placed on top, going for something as orderly as possible.

There were also a number of deathtraps hidden in practically every square inch of it. Some were even hidden in plain sight, cleverly disguised as furniture or artworks.

The man himself looked almost like a part of the surroundings. He wore an immaculate white suit in the latest fashion, brushed so clean I could hardly find any imperfections, even when I _really_ looked. His tie was coal black, neatly tucked into his suit, and I would be surprised if his silver pin had ever been touched by human hands. His black hair had been neatly combed back and parted, and the only sign he was a cape was the silver and wood mask he wore, made from overlapping bands that moved with his expression.

It would've made for quite the presence, if he wasn't a head shorter than me.

"Superwoman," Accord said. "This is a surprise, I must admit. If you wish, you may take a seat."

I took up on the offer, making sure that my cape was as neat as I could make it, which was practically perfect. My suit didn't fold or rumple as I sat down, and I carefully folded my legs, hands intertwined and resting on my knee. I didn't want him to feel more uneasy than he already was, not when I had a job to do. With my finesse, I could be the very epitome of poise, and I had to be for this meeting.

Accord sat down as well, hands folded in front of him. If he was nervous, he did an even better job of masking it than his secretary.

"May I ask why you've suddenly come to my office?" he asked.

"To lay some things straight, and to make an offer," I replied.

"I'm surprised. You don't seem like the kind to make offers to a crime lord."

"You haven't heard what I have to say."

Accord grabbed a pen. "If I may? It'll help me work over what you're about to tell me; I have a feeling I'll need to."

"Of course."

Uncapping his fountain pen, he held the nib over a pad of unmarked paper. "What is it you must 'lay straight'?"

"Simply enough, you're now at a fork in the road, each path very different from the other. You can try to continue your criminal career, which will be a _very_ short one, considering that I can dismantle it before lunchtime."

Accord jotted down some notes in a tight, flowing style, not even looking down at the paper. "It's not a very appetizing scenario. I take it there's an 'or' in there?"

I allowed myself a smile. "Or, I make my offer."

"And that is?"

"That you join the Justice League, under probationary status."

Accord stopped in the middle of writing. "That... is not quite what I expected."

"It's simple, really. After the Long Halloween, I realized that the League must expand its ranks. The original seven, myself included, would still be the main body of the group, but there's no reason why we can't have others in supportive roles."

"And you imagine that I'd be incredibly useful in a supportive role." Accord capped his pen, and returned it to its original spot. "Something tells me you wouldn't make this offer to other crime lords."

"No, no I wouldn't. You're a special case for two main reasons: one, the severity of your crimes is nowhere near the level of, say, what the ABB used to do. Though, the fact that you sold capes to the Yangban is not one I take lightly. If you do join, one of the tasks you'll be given is to get those people _back_."

"Very understandable. What is the second reason?"

I produced a hologram of the Earth from my wrist, letting it slowly rotate. A bit theatrical, but it got the point across to him.

"I did some reading," I said. "And by that, I mean that I took the time to read your binders from afar. Plans to end world hunger, or improve quality of life across the planet. Designs for cities with minimal carbon footprints, roads that have the most efficient travel routes... all of them are meant to make the world a better place."

"You see what I've been striving towards, all this time," Accord said, and there was something in his voice when he said it.

"I don't approve of your methods in the slightest, but I admire the goal. If you join the League, you'll have to give up a lot of the comforts you're used to- fancy furniture, expensive suits, and so on. In fact, depending on how well it goes legally speaking, you might even have to spend some time in jail. But, I'll also help you achieve some of your goals. It's easy for a government to dismiss you; it's another thing altogether to dismiss _me_. The League has resources and technology beyond that of any nation; that could make things far easier. The same offer will go for your Ambassadors."

Accord fell silent for a moment. His gaze fell on the globe, and I could see the _wistfulness_ behind his eyes.

"How could I say no?" he finally said.

"I'm glad you see it that way. Now, I believe I have a way to better lighten whatever legal penalties would come your way, once you've officially joined.

"And that is?"

I stood up, and leaned forward. "You had a former associate named Thomas Calvert, didn't you? I want you to tell the authorities everything you have on his operations..."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The two of them were standing out on the pier, like I'd asked. Neither were in costume, but they must've known it wouldn't matter with me.

I descended down, and they turned to face me. Unarmed, with no wires that could serve to alert Calvert of their activities. There were no camera eyes on them within a mile of here; we could have our conversation quietly.

"These are the last of them," Lisa said, and handed me the papers. "Along with all the testimony and reports you've already gotten, this seems a bit like overkill."

"I can't be too careful with this," I replied. "I don't want there to be even a _slight_ chance of him weaseling out of trouble. Even if he manages to dodge a few charges, some of them will have to stick, and that'll be enough."

Brian folded his arms. "Sounds like you really have it out for him."

"Out for him?" I frowned. "No. I don't have any _grudge_ against Calvert; I just want to free Dinah."

"I can tell," Lisa said. "So, probationary status still stands. Not that we even really _did_ anything serious-"

"-which is why it'd be light," I finished. "Once again, thank you for helping me like this."

Brian shrugged. "I owe it to you, after what you did for my sister. Wouldn't feel right, staying on the job when it's clear you're after him for a good reason."

"I'm glad you see it that way. I'll make sure to try and get her out of your mother's custody, you have my word. I've helped the CPS on a number of times; they'll be willing to lend me their ears."

"Wow, you really _do_ mean it, huh?" Lisa asked.

"Why wouldn't I?" I replied.

"Never mind."

"Anything else you need?" Brian asked.

I shook my head. "I'm good. I need to get going; hopefully I'll see you two when Calvert's in court."

"Be wary of traps, Superwoman," Lisa said, and I had a feeling she wasn't talking about legal pitfalls.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The Batman was waiting on the rooftop I'd specified. I landed to his side, staring down at the building two blocks away from us. At this time of night, staff was minimal.

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" the Batman asked. "Maybe you should wait until you have him in court for everything."

"By then, he might have Dinah moved, or worse," I replied. "No, we're doing this tonight. You have the layout of the security systems?"

He nodded. "Disabling them should be child's play. The guards, on the other hand, might be a bit more troublesome. I have more of my tranquilizers, but we'd need to act fast."

"That won't be a problem for me. Give me enough darts for all of them, and they'll be out in a heartbeat."

"Well, that's the easy part," he said. "Figuring out how the device works, and crossing over into any number of alternate Earths in order to find the girl? That's going to be the hard part."

"But not impossible."

The Batman let out a dry laugh. "I don't think that word holds any meaning to you, does it?"

I shrugged. "Not really."

"Well then, let's get to it." The Batman straightened, preparing a grappling hook. "Stick to the plan I laid out, and we should be good."

He fired, and swung from the rooftop, wings spread like his namesake. I gently flew alongside him, keeping an eye out for any signs of trouble as we passed through the night.

"Never thought you'd be performing a breaking and entering?" the Batman asked.

"I never thought I'd do a lot of things I've done," I replied. "Hopefully, getting arrested won't be one of them."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **11.03**

Getting inside the building was easy enough. Once the Batman put the cameras at one of the entrances in feedback loops, I threw a dart into the guard's neck and gently carried him away to a out-of-sight spot. I used my x-ray vision to find the keycard, hidden away inside his tie, then also took his walkie-talkie for extra measure.

The Batman arrived at the door as soon as I unlocked it. He checked a computer on his wrist, a hand held up.

"Cameras in this hall will be down... now."

We hurried in, and I shut the door behind us. The hallway was well-lit; the Batman stuck out like a sore thumb amongst all the white tiling. I peered through the walls, seeing where the guards would be in this part of the building. There were two of them, patrolling different halls, and I pulled out two more tranquilizers. I _could_ probably take them out quick enough to avoid detection, but I didn't want to take any risks.

"Compartmentalized cameras," the Batman muttered. "I'll have to disable them individually, but that won't take much longer."

"Better hurry," I said. "One of the guards is making his round nearby."

The guard in question was coming near the corner, humming a little tune to himself. Suddenly, he paused, and pulled out his walkie-talkie. At the same time the walkie-talkie in my hand crackled to life.

"Tim, everything clear in your section? Over."

I strained my throat a little, then pressed the answer button.

"All clear," I replied in Tim's voice. "Most exciting thing I see is a few seagulls fighting over a sandwich. Over."

The guard -the name tag said Ray- nodded. "Nice and quiet shift, huh? Understood. I'm taking a coffee break in fifteen, make sure to have Johnson take the post. Over."

"Got it," I said. "Over."

Ray put his walkie-talkie down, then turned around. I turned to see the Batman staring at me, head tilted slightly.

"How did you do that?" he asked.

"Precise muscle control," I replied, still using Tim's voice. When the Batman shrugged and moved forward, I said in his own voice, "Plus, I have a pretty good ear."

He shuddered. "Don't do that again."

I fought down a chuckle, then glided after him. "Cameras are taken care of?"

"In this section? Go to town."

I nodded. In the span of a heartbeat, Ray and the other guard were out and stuffed into the closets, their hands bound. Just to insure their safety, I decided to unlock the closets; it wouldn't be good if there was an emergency and they couldn't escape. Dusting my hands off, I double-checked the trail to the lab containing the Janus ring, then waited for the Batman to catch up.

"Cameras for the next few halls have been taken care of," he said. "Wait for me before we get to the lab; it's a two-person job."

"Got it," I replied.

There were five guards in the section; they were all out before they knew it. I had to use my voice-trick to keep some more from investigating, then I flew over to the entrance to the lab. The Batman was already there, studying the locking mechanisms.

"I've disabled the cameras inside, but we need to turn the keys at the same time," he said. "Do you have them?"

I nodded, and tossed him one. "On three?"

"On three."

We stepped up to the locks and inserted our keys. The Batman counted down, and I turned the key, taking care to precisely mirror his movement.

The light didn't change.

"Damn," the Batman muttered. "Must be something we're missing.

I glanced down at the key, peering closely, and groaned. _Of course_ it was fingerprint encoded. Not just fingerprint encoded, either; it was advanced enough to determine the person's body temperature and pulse. Most likely meant to prevent people from using severed fingers.

"Plan B, then," I said.

I carefully ripped the door out of its hinges, then set it down behind me. A cool breeze caressed my cheeks as I looked into the lab, searching for any security measures we had to be wary of. Pressure sensors, laser scanners, the likes.

There were a few, but they'd already been taken down by the Batman. I let out a low breath, then walked inside.

The Janus ring was at the end of the lab, looming over everything else. There was a crate of equipment nearby, and I was surprised to see an assortment of spacesuits inside. Perhaps there were a few Earths devoid of an atmosphere?

The Batman took to the ring's console, studying the controls intently. He hesitantly flicked a switch, and the power came on.

"Controls are about the same as the commercial models," he said. "Shouldn't be too difficult to get it working."

Lisa's warning echoed through my mind, and I decided to check the device for any explosives or self-destruct mechanisms. Satisfied there weren't any, I gave a nod to the Batman.

"Let's do this."

He worked the controls, and a portal formed. It started small, then grew, and I could see the gravity waves rippling outwards as a hole was torn in the fabric of our reality. Eventually, I could see the inside of a complex, rather spartan in appearance.

"Is it this one?" the Batman asked.

I peered inside, then pulled back, frowning. "I searched the entire compound. She's not in there."

"Let me try something."

The portal shifted, and the view changed. Now, vast prairies stretched out, a lone trail snaking through tall grass that waved in the breeze. This was a world that'd never been graced by humans, I saw.

Still, no Dinah. The rest of the worlds in the 'catalogue': a world covered in ice, an Earth with a pale green sky and red vegetation, and a world where only some vegetation fringed the shores of vast deserts; none of them had her.

"This doesn't make sense," I muttered. "She should be in at least _one_ of these. Is this all of them?"

"Yes," he replied. "Although..."

"Although what?"

"It's possible it's a multi-step process. Hop over to one Earth, and use a Janus that only has a world you want to keep secret."

I blinked. "I think you're right. Go back to the first one."

He did as told. Sure enough, I could see another Janus ring to the side, a bit smaller than the main one. The controls were the same; barring any surprises, I could operate it.

"I'm going in," I said. "Stay here. If there's trouble, I want you to contact the authorities."

The Batman seemed to grapple with it for a bit. I could imagine he was hesitant to just let me journey into an alternate Earth without any real backup.

"Understood," he finally said.

"Hopefully, I'll be back soon enough, with Dinah in tow."

After a moment's thought, I grabbed a spare spacesuit from the crate, one that'd fit a person of Dinah's size. With that in tow, I glided into the compound, then went to the Janus ring, fiddling around with the controls for a few moments. There was only one target destination allowed, so I selected that one.

Blue light streamed in through the opening portal, washing over me. For a moment, I felt a blissful warmth, as if invigorating every single fiber of my being. It was like when I was out in the unfiltered light of the sun, but magnified to an unimaginable level.

I finally shook myself out of that haze, then looked through the portal. There was air on the Earth before me, but unbreathable to humans. There was no vegetation, no water; only barren rock that flared in the infrared, brighter than I'd expected. The explanation hung in the sky: a blue sun, massive and bright, to the point where the outer surface was practically molten.

I sucked in a breath, and stepped through. The blue sun would've burned a normal human to a crisp already, but I only felt better and better with each passing moment. Taking to the sky, I looked around, searching for Dinah. There was a rover of some sorts nearby, no doubt meant to carry personnel back and forth; it couldn't be too far.

There. A small compound four miles out, made of high-grade materials. In one of the rooms, huddled in the corner and gently rocking, was Dinah Alcott. She was hugging her knees to her chest, surrounded by papers covered in shaky handwriting.

Getting her out would be tricky in an environment like this. I'd have to-

My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of an explosion behind me. I turned around in time to see the portal closing, fire shooting out of the shrinking hole in spacetime.

It couldn't have been the device itself; I'd _checked_ it... the explosive was probably meant to level the compound, ring included.

I was trapped.

No, I couldn't think that way. There _had_ to be a way back, even if I had to smelt down the raw materials and make my own machine from what I'd seen of the inner workings. Normally, one couldn't replicate tinkertech, but I had to try; there was no other option.

But first, Dinah.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The armored door to the compound was locked, but I didn't care at that point. It gave way like water before my eyes, and I stepped through the molten hole in the wall, spacesuit in tow. Carefully, I disassembled it, so it'd cut down on precious time. The next part was going to be pretty tricky.

The human body can survive a full minute and a half in the vacuum of space, though it'd only be conscious for the first fifteen seconds. Unfortunately, a sudden drop in pressure could hemorrhage the lungs, cutting down chance of survival immensely, so I couldn't take it so leisurely.

In the span of a second, I punched through the one-way mirror, sealed it back up with my heat-vision, and got Dinah into the spacesuit. Her heart rate spiked at the sudden shock, but it began to slow down again when she realized who she was staring at through the visor.

"It's..." she croaked, then licked her lips. "It's you. I-I couldn't see you in the n-numbers, but I knew..."

"It's okay," I said, soothingly. "I'm here now, it's going to be okay. I'm going to get you out of here, right?"

Dinah nodded weakly. With a pang of disgust, I saw a kind of drug running through her system, and realized it must've been what Calvert used to keep her docile. The very thought of him drugging a little girl made my blood boil; if he'd been right there, I didn't know if I'd be able to restrain myself.

"T-the end," Dinah slurred. "T-the world's gonna end..."

"I need you to stay quiet and try not to exert yourself," I said. "I need that air to last you a while, okay?"

Again, she nodded.

If need be, I could probably set up a shelter for her, but how long would that last? A few days? Maybe I could supply raw materials to make new equipment, but how long could I keep it up?

"I'll be back in a minute," I said, pulling away. "I need to get something."

Dinah didn't say anything, but the way she tried to hold on spoke volumes.

I left the compound the same way I'd entered, then began to gather up raw materials. Iron ores, copper, tin, gold, silver; if it existed, I could find it. I made piles of the stuff where the portal had been, then went to work. I refined the metals with my heat-vision, tempering and mixing wherever I needed, producing the kind of alloys the machine had been made of.

With my eidetic memory, it was a cinch putting the pieces together with mechanical precision. I even managed to recreate the power-source, using electrolysis to produce hydrogen for the miniature fusion reactor. In a few minutes, I had my own equivalent of a Janus ring.

It didn't work.

Gritting my teeth, I tried again, dismantling the machinery and putting it back together, trying to recreate what I'd seen from memory. And yet, no manner how many times I tried it, no dice.

It must've been a quality of tinkers, a factor of their power that let them make it. It'd explain why scientists couldn't reproduce the technology; hell, it was the predominant theory as to why mass-production wasn't an option. Still, I'd thought it was simply a matter of not having the precision, or the proper know-how...

I wiped my forehead, and was surprised to see sweat glistening my fingers. When was the last time that'd happened? Especially odd, considering how good the sunlight had been making me feel. I'd been moving faster and faster as I worked, like someone had plugged a cord right into my spine.

Now, though... I actually felt _funny_. It was hard to put to words, but my vision was beginning to swim. Not like I had a fever, though; instead of losing sight of things, it was almost like I was noticing details I hadn't before.

The song of the sun was almost painfully loud in my ears, like it'd never been before. New colors danced before my eyes, colors I'd never seen in my life. To try and describe would be liking trying to describe sight to a blind man. An apt feeling; I'd thought I could see so many things before, but now I felt like I'd been blind my entire life.

Things that'd been faint before were now in full detail. I could begin to see a pattern, an underlying fabric to everything, with infinite and zero density all in the same moment. Nature abhors a vacuum, and I'd known of the theories of particles composing the bottom layer of it all, but now I could _see_ it dancing before my eyes, unbelievably beautiful. A mesh of violent energies, infinite in their magnitude, like the tossing of a stormy sea, yet _structured_.

Looking down at my hand, I could see the clockwork of my own body, organic yet mechanical all the same. Particles smaller than atoms, through which I could see the violent energies being channeled through, permeating my very being.

I flew back over to Dinah, and was shocked to see that same not-light I'd seen on Weld's face, and on those of her parents. Now, however, instead of a faint glimmer, it was like a powerful beacon, structured so beautifully I wanted to cry.

Would that light be snuffed out?

I clenched my fists. No, there _had_ to be a way back, a way out. And I thought I was beginning to see it.

If I focused my eyes just right, I could peer to other things, but it was neither without or within what I normally saw. It was almost... coexisting, never interacting, except for the rare occasion. It was like a sea of dust motes floating through the void, but I realized that wasn't what it was.

They were Earths.

Infinite Earths.

How foolish we'd been, to think there were a finite number of them! A finite number of themes, perhaps, but each theme could have infinite variations, each different in subtle or overt ways. Why, there were even variations of my own theme, ones I could even now only scarcely glimpse.

But I couldn't focus on that, not when there was a life to save.

Trying to make a _machine_ that could bridge to other worlds would be a fruitless endeavor. But that didn't mean I couldn't leave this place. If I could see the very clockwork of the universe, and that which kept it separate from the others, then there had to be a way to _twist_ it, so to say.

Yes. A reverberation through spacetime, done _just_ the right way...

I turned to Dinah. "Hold on to me."

She did as told, climbing onto my shoulders. In the spacesuit, it was rather awkward, but she managed as I flew back to where the portal had been.

"What are you doing?" she whispered.

"Getting you home," I replied.

I vibrated the atomic structure of my hands in the right way, and _plunged_.

I imagined it must've looked terrifying from the perspective of people on the other side. A pair of hands appearing out of nowhere, spacetime warping around them as a hole was widened. My arms screamed at me as I widened the makeshift portal, but I pressed on, trying to keep it as stable as possible.

Finally, it was wide enough for me to pass through, and I did so in an instant, landing on the floor with Dinah cradled safely in my arms. I felt exhausted, like I could sleep for a year, but it was quickly fading.

I rose to my feet, still holding Dinah, and saw the League staring at me. The Batman must've called them when I disappeared, and I could see two dozen armed guards unconscious on the ground. Based on the bruising and occasional broken bone, that'd been his doing.

"Superwoman?" Clockblocker asked, eyes wide behind his mask. "Did that..."

"She needs medical attention," I interrupted. I walked over to Dragon, depositing Dinah into her arms. "Get her to the Fortress."

"You yourself look like you need it," the Batman said. "My god, you're so _pale_."

With how I was hearing and seeing everything now, I couldn't even _try_ to not decipher the voice changer. I managed a wry grin as I looked at him.

"Look who's talking. Maybe you should be getting out in the sunlight more, Defiant."

His eyes widened, and I could see Dragon turn a drone in his direction, almost accusatory.

"Not now," I said, like I was short of breath. "There's more we need to do."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It didn't take long to gather the authorities and tell them everything. In ten minutes, they were outside his door, practically bringing half the force down on his penthouse.

Dragon wanted me to rest a little, get myself checked out at the Fortress, but not when I still had this to do. I _had_ to be the one to do it, after trying to nail him down for his crimes for so long. It wouldn't feel right, if I wasn't the one to do it.

The officers parted way as I strolled up, and I knocked on the door.

Calvert opened it, dressed in his finest suit. He must've figured it out early, to get himself ready. If he was nervous, or afraid, even I couldn't see it as he glared at me.

"Thomas Calvert," I said, "you're under arrest."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **11.04**

"How you're feeling?" I asked, knocking on the open door.

Dinah managed a smile, snug in the bed we'd set up. "Better. My headache's gone."

"Dragon washed the drug out of your system with some Kryptonian technology," I said. "It's going to take some time to repair your body from the effects of the drug, and we're going to have to ensure that you won't be reliant on it any longer."

"When am I going home?"

"You'll have to stay in treatment for at least another day," I replied, then smiled. "But your parents are in the next room, and they're dying to see you."

Dinah's smile brightened, and her aura with it. I still didn't know quite what it was, but it had to be a good sign. The sight of it warmed my heart, and I found myself smiling back.

"I'll go get them," I said.

Suddenly, Dinah stopped smiling, like she was remembering something. "Wait."

I frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Before they come in, I need to tell you something. It's important."

I walked over to the side of the bed. "What is it?"

Dinah sucked in a deep breath. "It's about the end of the world."

"The end of the world? Dinah-"

"I can see _possibilities_ ," she continued. "Numbers, almost like a collection of pictures, colors..."

"A mosaic?" I supplied.

She nodded. "In the next year, I keep on seeing in a lot of them _blood_ , or blackness, and I see it everywhere. I can't see much else, can't really see who or what is involved."

"When exactly does this happen?" I asked.

Dinah rubbed the side of her head. "It'll most likely happen by September."

"Can you see me in the pictures."

She shook her head. "No. I can't see the green man, either. He asked me the same thing, and I told him so. I don't know anything else."

My frown deepened. "Well, if you do, just talk to me about it."

"Are you going to stop it from happening?" she asked, voice thin.

I forced a smile. "I'm Superwoman, Dinah. I can do anything."

I got up, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll bring your parents in now, okay?"

She nodded. "Okay."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

I decided to give them some privacy for the tearful reunion, and walked down the hall, thinking about what Dinah had said.

The end of the world? It didn't seem to make much sense, considering the good work the League and I were doing. Just what on Earth could bring about its end? And just what did she mean by 'the end'? That could range from the disruption of civilization to the planet getting vaporized.

There were too many possibilities. A plague? Nuclear war? Something with the Endbringers? Hell, even an alien invasion wasn't necessarily off the books.

Dinah said she couldn't see me, or J'onn. That _had_ to account for something. Maybe we were blind spots in her precognition, and if that _was_ the case, then perhaps her visions were inaccurate. After all, I had to be a major factor in it, enough to possibly turn things around.

I decided to put a pin in it for the time being. Dragon wanted me to get a check-up from her, to make sure there weren't any negative side-effects of my exposure to blue sunlight.

As I floated over to her lab, I thought about the events of just a few hours ago. I had to admit, it felt pretty good seeing Calvert led into a police cruiser, his hands cuffed behind his back. After so long of evading repercussion for his actions, justice would finally get its way. Once he was in court, the sheer amount of evidence I'd gathered from Piggot, Accord, Brian, Lisa, and others would be enough to damn him, and that wasn't even including testimony from Dinah.

I'd love to see him try and wriggle out of that.

Things weren't quite over, of course. It could be some time before the first court meeting, and it'd be even longer before the jury made a decision, even with testimony from me. Still, odds were that Calvert would be seeing the inside of a prison cell by Christmas. All in all, things felt pretty good, even with Dinah's warning hanging over my head.

That feeling would fade soon enough.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Try again, with this piece," Dragon said.

I did as told, taking the metal bar in my hands. After a moment's resistance, I simply twisted it into a pretzel, and let it drop to the ground, alongside other items. Toothpicks, pencils, pieces of paper; all sorts of objects. It wasn't surprising that I could twist them or break such materials.

No, it was the fact that they had been timelocked when I started.

"That's enough," Dragon said.

The room pressurized, and we stepped out of the vacuum chamber. Dragon's suit shook its head, analyzing the data it'd gathered. I could see an aura around it, as well as the other suits; some were dim or nonexistent, like with drones, while her core AI shone like a small sun, structured differently from the other auras I'd seen.

"This should be impossible," she said. "Considering that the only things that can negate Clockblocker's power are Siberian and Flechette, this indicates a massive increase in strength. That jaunt with the blue sun has made you three times stronger, at the _very least_. Coupled with the sudden ability to make portals to other realities with your bare hands, and I believe the sudden increase in sunlight had a drastic effect on the fundamentals of your powerset."

"I felt like I could do more, too," I said. "I didn't know what, only that there was more."

Colin walked over, a data pad in his hands. He was still in his Batman garb for the time being; he hadn't the time to change, not when there was this work to do.

"Anything else you're feeling?" he asked. "Dizziness, fatigue, aches?"

I shook my head. "I actually feel fantastic. Why?"

Colin and Dragon shared a glance.

"Taylor," Colin said, "we decided to, well, take a look at you on the microscopic level as part of the previous tests. Brainiac helped us with that, and well..."

If _he_ was being tactful, then something had to be up. I felt a chill run up my spine, gooseflesh pricking up.

"What's wrong." It was more of a statement than anything else, with how I'd said it.

"Whatever effect that gives you your powers is in some kind of overload," Colin continued. "It's a rough description, but it fits. Already some of your cells are undergoing apoptosis. It's a slow effect, _very_ slow, but it's still there..."

"Taylor, you're dying."

Dragon's words echoed through the silent lab. For a few moments, they seemed to find any purchase in me, but eventually they managed to sink in.

I looked down at my hands. Why I hadn't done it before, I didn't know. Peering down, I could see what they were talking about; it was like tiny fireworks going off under my skin, taking individual cells with them. Blood cells, bone cells, skin cells... they were all dying.

I licked my lips, trying to find the strength to speak. That happened three times before I finally managed to say something.

"How... how long do I have?"

"It's too early to be sure of the date," Dragon replied, her voice subdued. "I'd say a year, give or take a few months. Your cells are healing the damage every second, but eventually it'll be too much. After that, your body is going to essentially break down, like radiation poisoning."

I stared at Dragon, looking without looking.

"There has to be a way," I said. "There has to be something in the archives, or some power that can reverse the damage."

"We can't rule that out," she replied quickly. "If anyone can find a way, it's the Justice League. Yet... you also have to consider the possibility that there _isn't_ a way, and plan accordingly."

With a year to live, if I was lucky? And a potential apocalypse at the same time? How the hell could I 'plan accordingly' for _that_?

"Don't tell my father _anything_ ," I said, voice even. "Not a peep. Same goes for Weld. If I have to break the news, I'm doing it myself, on my own terms."

"Of course," Dragon said. "We'll... we'll give you some time alone. I know you need some privacy now."

"Thank you," I replied.

Dragon and Colin left the room. For a few minutes, I simply stood there, staring at nothing. Then, I slowly walked into the hallway, sliding a hand over the wall, feeling the crystalline material under my fingers. I breathed in deeply taking it all in. Lord knew I might only have a short time to.

At the time where most people's lives were just beginning, mine would be coming to an end.

All I had was a year to get my affairs in order, both as Taylor and as Superwoman. A year to try and leave the world a better place, to do as much good as I could. A year to stop the rest of the Endbringers, to rid the world of its worst threats. A year to leave a better League in my wake, one that could shoulder my burden when I was gone.

A year to find a cure.

A year to write my will.

A year to work up the courage to tell Dad, to come to terms with my mortality, to live life to its fullest, and to leave behind a legacy.

I closed my eyes, and fought the urge to cry out, to fly into the void and _hit_ something. Shattering a moon wouldn't make me feel any better, or change anything. At this point, I didn't know just _what_ could.

 _It wasn't fair_.

I walked to the end of the hallway, stopping at the window. The arctic landscape spread out before my eyes, and I simply stared at it, trying to keep my mind as blank as possible.

After a few moments, I realized J'onn was standing beside me, a towering giant in his natural form. His head was bowed, and I could _feel_ the crushing sadness and despair emanating from him, like a heavy weight that tried to pull me to the floor. For something so different from a human, it was startling just how much he felt the same things as us.

"You already figured it out."

 _I could skim enough from the top of Colin's mind. It was such a powerful thought, such a heavy one; I couldn't have ignored it if I tried._

"They think they might be able to save me."

 _Do you?_

I didn't answer. J'onn looked up to the sky, his eyes gleaming.

 _A younger me would take the news differently. Pain and sadness were unfamiliar to him. He'd lash out, tremble and quiver with emotion, then calm down, as he did on those rare occasions. Then, there came a pain so great, it changed him. I still feel pain like him, perhaps even deeper, but I am well acquainted with it. Even if the wounds are still as deep, I can better shoulder them._

"And yet, it still hurts."

 _By the Source, it still hurts. And it never stops hurting. I hide it well, but that's just it- hiding. For more than a billion years, I've shouldered my suffering, like you can scarcely hope to imagine. And yet, the news still stings me like it would've done to that young one, all those years ago._

He sunk to his knees, and began to shudder. After a moment, I realized it was the Martian equivalent of crying.

 _I grow tired of shouldering it, Taylor. I've_ failed _you. I failed him. That promise I'd forged in my heart has been broken, and with it, I've failed them_ all _. I remember hearing your heart beating for the first time, and the oath I swore to him, to make sure you'd be safe. After so many millions of years of death and despair, I'd felt hope flicker._

My first heartbeat? That didn't make sense. Unless...

"J'onn," I began, "what are you talking about?"

He stood up again, slowly, and looked my way with those sad eyes.

 _I've hid it for too long,_ he replied. _It is time that I told you_ everything.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Eleven: World's Finest**_


	30. Arc 12

_The_ _form is ephemeral. The mind is eternal._

Such is the truth of the red world, and it has been so for many millions of years. Form changes; it moulds itself to the surroundings, or to desire. It fissions, or fuses, so that one may become many, and many may become one. Form is superfluous.

The mind, however, is eternal. Like form, the mind changes, but it does not mould itself to the physical world. It can fission, and fuse, but each mind remains itself, instead of truly becoming one.

Over the red seas of sand, and the blue seas of water, there is another kind, one in both the physical and mental realm. Vast expanses of green spread over the plains and valleys, rippling like water, even when there is no breeze to disturb it. Sometimes the expanses bud off each other, moving slowly like glaciers, and merge with others. Individual minds may pull away, as to experiment and to create.

Connecting them all, even when the forms are separate, is the sea of thought.

To truly capture it with description is to fail. Ideas and memories and emotions spread across the sea like ripples in a pond, so dense as to boggle the imagination. Nothing is hidden from each other. Wisdom is not lost, only built upon. Even when two minds merge and die to create more, their memories live on in their offspring, and echo throughout the sea, through the Source of all things, eternal.

It was not always like this. Once, they were separate in form and in mind, truly isolated from one another. They fought each other for food, for territory, unable to form large groups without falling into chaos. Even then, however, there were the starts of something better. They could change their form to better suit their environment, and they spoke without a sound, communicating basic thoughts over a medium they did not understand.

As time progressed, they began to conquer their more animalistic instincts, but conflict remained. Now, instead of individuals or small groups, there were nations and races fighting against each other. Civilization began to form, crude at first, and the first cities were founded. All the while, their physical evolution continued, and the lines between them began to blur.

And yet, as they neared their final state, they nearly destroyed themselves. The war waged by the Pole Dwellers and the Desert Dwellers ravaged their world, until it seemed they would forever wipe themselves out. Then, at a time when the war was at its zenith, the blind hand of evolution finally brought them to their current state, in the course of a single generation. When they could see within each other, and see through each others' eyes, they couldn't bring themselves to act in hate again.

With peace, came true civilization. Art flourished; entire swaths of the planet were littered with works of all kind, many sculpted from stone and sand. Beautiful designs were etched into the ice caps, detailing their history and their knowledge, and their very bodies became art. They studied the heavens, charting the stars, and began to unravel the mysteries of the universe.

Then, there came a change to their peaceful existence. As one species would say, a billion local years later, all good things had to come to an end.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Cold stars, shining in the blackness.

Falling ever inwards, hurtling at unimaginable speeds.

The warm lure of home, inviting for reunion.

That was what the Explorer saw and felt, as it drew ever closer back to Ma'aleca'andra. It had felt such things before, in the distant past; like many others, it had heaved itself off from home to explore the solar system. It had descended upon Thu'ulaca'andra, the blue world, and learned what it could. To become something was to truly understand it, and so it had become many things. The rocks, the blooms of green film over the vast oceans; it spent a hundred years on the world, understanding and becoming.

Others had been satisfied, but not it. Once it felt there was no more to learn from the blue world, it visited Pe'erela'andra, and braved the acid rains to become the first to ever see beyond the thick clouds. Ga'lunda'andra, Lu'raga'andra, and the rest followed suit. It spend millennia amongst the planets and moons, frequently returning home, until it desired to go where no other dared- the stars themselves.

For thousands of years, it had explored the nearest ones, spread out to let the light of the Everfire propel it to new destinations. It had found new worlds: some with life, none with intelligence. Yet, it remained fascinated by it all, until the loneliness became too much, and it felt the need to return. Though it was still within the sea of thought, even at such a distance, physical separation could still take its toll.

The return journey was almost as long as the outward one. It had grown considerably in its voyage, feeding off nutrients in foreign soils. If it so desired, it could've encompassed an entire ice cap, though it would be stretched dangerously thin in the process. It'd seen much on its journey; it'd become and understood countless things. When it finally returned, it would perhaps finally choose to mate, giving its life to create millions more from its body. It would become one with the Source and its ancestors, while its descendants carried on what it had learned in its voyage, enriching the knowledge of Ma'aleca'andra.

As it finally entered the system, letting the pull of Lu'raga'andra guide it along, it noticed something.

Something even larger was approaching, from a wildly different elliptical plane. At first, the Explorer thought the interloper was another of its own kind, but that was quickly dismissed; it could not sense the massive one's presence in the sea of thought. Yet, the interloper was not some celestial body, either. It moved with _purpose_.

How ironic, that after spending so far away from home in a quest to find another intelligence, the Explorer would find what it wanted back home.

It could sense the others' reactions in the sea. Some concern, some trepidation, but above all, an intense curiosity. Already, some of the expanses on Ma'aleca'andra's surface began to form geometric shapes, mathematical proofs that transcended language. If the interloper could find them, it could most certainly detect the etchings.

Studying the interloper more closely, the Explorer saw that it was made of some odd flesh, with crystalline tissues dispersed throughout, but it could not decipher more. It began to try and communicate as well, ever hopeful. It strained its senses, waiting for a response.

There was none.

The interloper arrived in orbit around Ma'aleca'andra well before the Explorer, and stayed there, silent. No one dared approach, for fear of the gesture being misinterpreted as an attack. Instead, they continued their messages, making them more complex, and hoped for the best. Still, the concern began to grow, like a bloom of algae over the sea of thought, and the Explorer began to worry as well.

Unfortunately, the worry was too well-founded.

Eight days after arrival, the interloper extended a long tendril and flooded the atmosphere of Ma'aleca'andra with large quantities of a strange gas, one that had been found before in the atmosphere of the blue world and others. Memories of storms on Thu'ulaca'andra flooded the Explorer's mind, of electromagnetic disturbances that produced the Hot Devourer, and all too late it realized the interloper's intent.

As soon as it broadcast the warning, the interloper fired the killing spark.

The Hot Devourer spread across the world, licking and lapping at the flesh of the explorer's people, turning it to ash on the scalding wind. Wherever it touched, death followed. Painful, agonizing, rippling through the sea of thought, disturbing it like a great storm. Through it all, the Explorer could feel its kindred's pain, hear their death wails, and taste the ash in the air that followed.

It was all too much. Even if the Hot Devourer could not touch it, here in the void, the pain was too great. The Explorer's mind would be overwhelmed by the agony, and death would soon follow.

And so, it made a decision that'd forever haunt it.

It was worse than cutting off a limb, or parting forever with sight. To pull away from the sea of thought was to tear at its very soul, but it was necessary. Even as it reeled from the agony of silence, other explorers were not so lucky. They perished in the void, untouched, while their brethren _burned_ at home.

Silence.

For the first time in its two million years of life, the Explorer could not hear or feel the others.

It quickened its pace, forgoing the leisurely mode of travel, and pounced upon the interloper, colliding with it just as it began to leave orbit. The Explorer produced thousands of tendrils, tipped with claws and pincers and other weapons that tore at the interloper's flesh, ripping away massive chunks. Frozen blood and other bodily fluids flooded into the void as the assault continued.

It was not enough. Despite its grievous wounds, the interloper vanished, fading into the space between spaces. The Explorer flailed, but hit nothing.

Some time passed this way, until the Explorer's rage faded, giving way to concern. It descended back down to the surface of its ruined world, to see what there was to salvage or save from death.

All it found was death, and ash.

The artworks had crumbled before the storms, or by the crushing forces of entire populations as they smashed against them in an attempt to douse the Hot Devourer. The etchings in the ice had turned to scalding mist on the shores of the boiling oceans, and the air had grown heavy with smoke. All that remained of a great people were flakes of burnt flesh, scorched black, crumbling in the wind.

As it rested on the sands of its lost home, gazing upon the destruction, the Explorer finally understood what loneliness was.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

For a thousand years, it stayed on its dead home. It did not do so to find survivors, or attempt to salvage even a scrap of civilization. It remained as still as the mountains, unthinking, as if trying desperately to escape existence.

When the seas began to shrivel up, leaving only dry basins, it finally left.

It wandered aimlessly, drifting through the void on a slow meander millions of years long, until it came to another system, far from its lost home. There, it found intelligence on the world farthest from the twin stars, a world that seemed little more than frozen gases enveloping a chunk of rock. There, life that was smaller than a raindrop would swim amongst pools of liquid nitrogen, making homes from frozen methane.

When night came, the pools would freeze, and the natives would become as still as death. Yet, when the suns rose over the horizon, the ponds would bubble and froth, and the natives would thaw out like nothing had happened.

The Explorer watched the cycle for some time, saw as they began to develop civilization.

Perhaps, therein laid the key to end the loneliness.

The Explorer stored much of its mass away in the Source, until it was the size of a native, taking their form. It descended upon the world, living amongst them in secret, watching as they began to form a culture of their own. It would make friends as they did, eat their food, speak their language. When night came, it would feign being frozen, then continue on when the first light of day graced the surface.

It did not interfere with what it felt was a natural development, but only partook in it. It learned from them, listening to their philosophies and ideals. Though they were far different from its own people, they too were dreamers, with their own fears and wants. It watched them grow, and felt an odd sense of satisfaction as they, too, began to look to the stars.

Then, fifteen thousand years after arrival, something else came to the world. It was more sensed than seen, but the Explorer was all too familiar with it.

Another interloper had come.

This did not act as executioner. At least, not immediately. Instead, it took on a form that appealed to the natives, and distributed some its power to a few, letting them use the abilities to fight each other, to foster conflict. Civilization teetered, and threatened to fall.

After some time to prepare, the Explorer took action.

It attacked the interloper without mercy, immediately piercing its body with tendrils and taking it into the void. It reached inside the gateway between layers that existed within the artificial body, and pulled on it through the Source, forcing it into this layer. Once enough was out, the Explorer tore into its body, stopping only when its frozen carcass drifted through the void, away from the planet.

For a time, the Explorer did nothing, only watching the corpse. It attempted to understand what it'd felt in that moment. Satisfaction? Anger? Emptiness?

No, it finally decided. A sense of duty.

These abominations could not be allowed to exist any longer, to destroy other worlds as they had destroyed Ma'aleca'andra. Intelligence was rare in the universe, that much it knew. To let it be snuffed out wherever it sprouted, when something could be done to stop it? No, that'd be the ultimate evil.

The Explorer set out into the void once again, but now it began to actively search, as it had done once before. Purpose had returned to it, though the loneliness had never seemed to fade. It had the abominations to thank for that, but the favor would be paid soon enough.

Soon, they would feel the pain it felt.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

And so began the war between the Explorer and the Abominations.

It was not a particularly fast-paced one, when millennia could pass between the meeting of the two enemies. Yet, it was a savage one, fought on a scale beyond that of any other conflict. The Explorer became the Hunter, searching for the Abominations by seeking possible targets. It made its presence known on a thousand thousand worlds, bringing to the inhabitants warnings or, if advanced enough, methods to fight back.

It would attack the Abominations at their most vulnerable, when they were discarding their shards, preparing to begin their cycles. It would pull their bodies into one reality and tear them apart, spilling their bellies to the void. When the Abominations began to adapt to that, the Hunter learned to phase the matter of its body, and used that instead. When they began to adapt to _that_ , it switched again to sheer telekinetic force.

When the Abominations could not overcome that, they developed a new tactic. Instead, they simply retreated to another layer, leaving the Hunter unable to attack.

Like all wars, there were advances and retreats. When it seemed that the Abominations could hardly be defeated by physical force, entire worldlines were wiped out by them, ending countless lives. The Hunter would attack them at the time of gathering, when they could not retreat, but that was merely avenging the deaths, not stopping them. For every Abomination it killed in such a manner, it knew that countless lives were lost.

And so, the Hunter changed tactics, instead using deception and manipulation.

It would shift its form to like that of an Abomination, then get close to one of them under the pretense of shard exchange. When the time came, the Abomination would be unable to defend itself in time when caught off-guard in such a manner. Dozens met their demise that way, until the worms wised up to the tactic. They began to travel in pairs, and developed codes of a sort.

That did not protect them from the next tactic.

Instead of attacking the body, the Hunter attacked the mind. Such a thing had been forbidden on Ma'aleca'andra, under the penalty of death, but there were no things more deserving than the worms. It would manipulate their minds, tricking them into colliding with stars, or even attacking one another.

In time, however, the Abominations adapted to that, too.

The war raged for a billion years, but in the end, there could be only one outcome. For every tactic the Hunter could create, the Abominations developed a countermeasure with time, even if they suffered greatly for it. The Hunter was one, and they were many. Though they had been whittled down to a handful, they were now unapproachable, essentially gods hewn from flesh and blood.

The Hunter appealed to some worlds it had encountered in its travels, worlds with beings of great power, but there was too much to hold them in check. The explanation for each one boiled down to one matter.

There were some things even worse than the worms.

Still, the Hunter attempted to continue the war, to end it once and for all, but it knew in its very being that failure was the only course it could take. Even if it warned as many worlds as it could, they could not necessarily drive the Abominations off.

And yet, it still fought.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It didn't know why it kept returning. There were other places to slink off to where it could recover, but it always chose the same place, somehow finding its way back again, no matter how long it'd been. Perhaps it was a reminder of why it fought, or maybe it just wanted to be somewhere familiar while it recovered.

When it was there, it was no longer the Hunter, but the Explorer once more.

Ma'aleca'andra was dead, but Thu'ulaca'andra was beginning to flourish over the millions of years. On its first return, the Hunter found little different, but by its second one, multicellular life had spread across the globe. Life had yet to spread to land, except for brief excursions, but it was a start. It'd spent a few years in the primordial oceans, taking on the shapes of the life it'd found, as if reliving happier times. Eventually, it returned to the war, and left behind its tiny corner of the universe.

The third and fourth times, great scaled beasts ruled the land, only to be mysteriously wiped out in time for the fifth visit. Smaller creatures, covered in coarse fiber, took their place. Some showed potential, but it'd be some time before any solid results. The sixth visit showed even more promise, in the form of a bipedal creature that was beginning to to experiment with simple tools.

When the Explorer returned home for the seventh time, however, it was shocked by what it found.

Ma'aleca'andra was _verdant_. The deserts had been swept away, replaced by forests and lush grasslands and seas the color of the sky. Glittering cities were scattered around the globe, and a thin ring circled the equator, connected to the ground by impossibly tall towers, like the spokes of a wheel.

Life had not suddenly sprung up once more on the dead world. No, it'd been brought there, and judging by the vegetation, there was only one explanation.

Thu'uluca'andra had finally birthed intelligence.

Already, spacecraft were beginning to approach, but it paid them no attention as it descended to one of the cities, shrinking as it went. By the time it'd gently descended in a city square, it was in a form like its ancestors, before the body became ephemeral.

The inheritors of its world were a curious-looking people, descended from those first bipeds it'd seen. They had four limbs, like its own ancestors, but that was the only similarity. Their skin took on a number of colors and shades, and their limbs were oddly-proportioned. They garbed themselves in artificial skins, like some others had, and had very upright forms, far more than any other species.

Judging by their cities, they were also perhaps the most advanced it'd ever encountered.

They were speaking amongst themselves in a verbal language, using reverberations in the artificially-thickened atmosphere, and it took note to skim the details off their minds. Communication would be key, here.

One native popped into existence from nowhere, seemingly transported by a plate on the ground. A highly-regarded scientist, from what the Explorer read. Dusting its robe off, it cautiously took a step forward, raising its hands in what must've been a non-threatening gesture.

" _Ma cneme do?_ " it asked.

An inquiry, asking for identity. What would it say? The Explorer and Hunter were titles, nothing more, and may not convey anything meaningful to such a people. It thought back to its true name, the name it'd discarded with the death of its people.

The Explorer finalized its internal translation, and spoke.

 _My name is J'onn J'onzz._

The native curled its lips. "My name is Kal-El."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **12.02**

They received it with open arms, declaring its visit a cause for celebration. In the streets of a hundred cities on a dozen worlds and orbital habitats, they went into the streets, cheering at its image on the screens, singing it name. Half of their population -albeit, a small one- was gathered in their capital city when it arrived, and they held something for it called a 'parade'.

It rather enjoyed the event, all things considered.

Once the initial festivities died down, then came the exchange of knowledge. Kal-El acted as its guide for such things, being one of the most esteemed scientists in their civilization. He took it to their halls of science, and it marveled at the knowledge they had managed to find over the millennia, far more advanced than any world it had encountered. Even Ma'aleca'andra never reached such heights of knowledge.

There was more to Krypton than just that. The people recited poetry, showed it film and theater, let it tour their art galleries, and gave it free access to their vast libraries. It read their greatest works, listened to their music, and admired their architecture. It took on their form during this time, to better understand them

For ten of Krypton's years, it dove into their culture. But, like all good things, it had to come to an end.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

From his spot on the outcropping of rock, J'onn stared at the red sun, deep in thought.

It was not the sun he had known for aeons. That had been a shrunken yellow disc, distant but bright; even for him it had been difficult to look straight at it. This sun, however, was red and swollen, taking up half the sky. He could stare right at it for hours without need for adjustment, and he could spot the countless swirls of its photosphere.

He shouldn't be seeing it as such for another two billion of his years. It was astonishing, really, how a simple error could spell an entire civilization's doom. If he'd arrived just a few hundred years later, a mere moment in his life, he would've found only ashes scattered along the bow wave of a nova.

It pained him to think about it. Of all the worlds he'd encountered, none had reached the heights of this one. In a single of the universe's heartbeats, they had accomplished wonders, and come closer to truly understanding it all than any other.

And now, they would die, perishing in the fires of the light that had given them life, and only he would remember them.

He had pleaded that they evacuate their world when they still had the chance, to find a new home in other systems. But they were settled on the matter; they would die before letting the worms steal their advanced science and technology, and thereby doom the rest of reality.

He could not blame them. If the worms were to ever learn of the Source...

"J'onn?" a voice asked.

He turned to see Kal-El standing in the doorway, arms folded. The man had taken him into his home, offering him a chance to help research the Source, to understand it more completely.

He had accepted. A few decades here was a short time for him; why not stay with the Kryptonians, to see their zenith and their end? Someone had to be there, to remember for them.

"Just thinking," he replied.

Kal-El offered a faint smile. "You've been doing that a lot, recently."

"It is only natural. There is much to think on."

"I suppose so." The man unfolded his arms, and beckoned for J'onn to follow. "Want something else to think about?"

J'onn shrugged, and followed him back into the house. They walked together to the lab, where Kal-El had been working on the nature of the Source for the past hundred years. With J'onn's insight, they had managed to vastly increase their knowledge, though they both knew it was but a grain of sand in a vast desert.

Kal-El pulled up some designs and put them on the holographic display. For a few moments, J'onn studied the schematics, then gave up. Even if he understood a good number of the underlying principles, Kryptonian technology was just too difficult to make sense of.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Something I've been working on for a long time, now," came the reply. "A revolutionary method of travel, somewhat like yours."

J'onn frowned. "A way to make portals between layers?"

Kal-El shook his head. "Something else. It instantaneously enters this infinitely thin void that permeates the Source, then reappears elsewhere, passing through everything like a phantom."

"Inter-universal travel and faster-than-light in one design," J'onn murmured. "Is there anything else about this Phantom Drive of yours?"

"Well, theoretically, you could also store something inside, but there's limitations. One could simply enter via a projector of sorts. To _leave_ , there needs to be a generator to power the projector, and an operator. To have a portable drive..."

Kal-El shook his head.

"The mass limitations are too hard to work with. I could feasibly put the entire planet in the Phantom Zone, but the power restrictions would be enormous, and the risk of something happening to the operator, even if it's just a machine? That rules out using it to save Krypton from the nova."

J'onn bowed his head. "I see."

"I'm not giving up yet. Maybe there'll be a breakthrough, but I also have something else in mind."

"Expanding the mass limitations of the portable drive?"

"No. I'd be lucky to get a full-grown person across, after years of development."

J'onn furrowed his brow. "Full-grown?"

"Guess that's my cue, huh?" another voice said.

Turning, J'onn saw Lani Lo-Is stroll into the room with her usual confident swagger. She sidled up to her husband, placing a hand on his arm, and smiled at J'onn.

"We have some good news to tell you," she said.

" _Very_ good news," Kal-El added.

J'onn's eyes widened. "You don't mean..."

"Find out for yourself, big guy," Lani said.

After a moment, J'onn knelt down and pressed his ear to Lani's stomach, straining his senses. Sure enough, he could hear a gentle heartbeat, weak for the moment. Yet, it sounded so momentous to him.

"J'onn, say hello to Zara," said Lani, her voice unusually soft.

"Krypton's first child in centuries," added Kal-El. "And she will be the last. The last daughter of Krypton."

J'onn pulled away, eyes wide as he stood back up.

"How long?" he asked.

"It's actually been a year, now," Lani said. "Kryptonian babies take a while to gestate. It won't be for another ten years that she's born."

"She'll mature normally, when she's finally out," Kal-El said.

J'onn looked back at the designs. "You're going to send her away, before it's all destroyed."

A nod. "Along with all of Krypton's knowledge. Hope springs eternal, J'onn. Though Rao will consume our worlds, Krypton will survive through her."

"Where will she be sent?"

Kal-El changed the hologram, producing an image of some cities. Though the inhabitants were very much like the Kryptonians in appearance, the technology was horrendously backwards. They looked as though they were barely industrial, let alone the level of Krypton.

"The people here are far younger than us. Their world's far from a paradise, but we had our own rough beginning. I know that they have the same capacity for greatness as us, and so I'm sending her there."

J'onn frowned. "Sending her out into such a hostile world... I'm not sure if you're making the right choice, Kal. What if they hurt her? And even if _they_ don't, what of the worms?"

To his surprise, Kal-El simply offered a faint smile. The hologram changed again, revealing dozens of complex equations.

"I've been studying how our biology interacts with the Source, and found something interesting. When exposed to yellow sunlight, like that of Rao many millennia ago, there's this _effect_ , one I scarcely understand. I know this, however: maturity comes into play, so adults could not develop it in enough time, but she will grow up in the yellow sun, J'onn. In time, she will be unimaginably powerful. Enough to challenge even the Destroyers."

"Incredible," J'onn murmured.

"That's why I want you to be the first to go there," said Kal-El. "You're the only other who can, thanks to your ability to shrink."

"You want me to raise your daughter?"

"Raise? No. She will be a daughter of that world; she will be raised by them. But she will need someone to protect her, to make sure the time is right, and to make sure she's on a good path. Think of it like... a godfather."

"Will you do this for us?" Lani asked. "For her?"

A moment passed, and J'onn made his decision.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

For one last time, he stood on Ma'aleca'andra, and stared at the sky like he had done countless times before. The world had changed, but there were patches left untouched by the Kryptonians, to serve as a reminder of what it had been like before. He knelt in the red sands, under the silent stars, and did nothing else for some time.

It had been dead to him for a billion years, but now it would be little more than dust on the cosmic wind. After this, he could never return, even to reflect on what had happened. And so, he sat in a pensive silence for nearly a week, remembering. The previous times, he had thought of his world's demise, but now he thought on other things. He thought to back to the sea of thought, to the wonders his own people had created, and all they had achieved.

Then, he grabbed a small rock and stashed it inside of himself. Something to remember home by, after all else was gone.

With that, he drifted back to the nearest transfer pad. He lingered at it for a moment, spared one last glance around him, then left.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Shrinking down to the size of a mouse, he slipped into the small pod Kal-El had constructed, and let the hatch seal over him. The equipment involved was barebones compared to the model Kal-El was preparing for Zara, but it would be enough to cross between worlds, and to set up a communicator. He'd be able to report on the world's condition, and when the infant would come across as well.

"Goodbye, J'onn," Lani said. "Hope it's not too bad on the other side, tough guy."

"I'll be alright. Farewell, Lani."

The drive began to hum as it was powered up. In a few moments, he'd be on another world: similar in many ways, but different in others.

"Keep her safe, J'onn," Kal-El said. "Will you?"

J'onn paused, then. "I promise."

"And if... if everything else fails, just _remember_. For all of us."

"I will," J'onn said, and with that, he was no longer on Krypton.

The pod fell into some water with a splash, and he opened the hatch. More likely than not, he'd landed in one of the planet's massive oceans, if the taste of salt meant anything. It could be some time before he found a coastline to land on, but time was one thing he had in abundance.

With that in mind, he shifted his form to that of an aquatic creature, grabbed the pod, and started swimming.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **12.03**

The first identity he took was that of a Russian midwife.

As far as anyone in the Vladivostok of 1896 knew, Yelena Ivanova had moved in from a nearby village, and that was that. There were a few questions, naturally, but no-one complained, considering how well she'd helped deliver their children. Under her watch, there was not a single stillborn, and only one mother had perished in delivery.

Perhaps that was why they were willing to overlook a few odd things in the ever-growing town, such as the fact that the local idiot one day went to the new library and practically devoured a pile of books. It was even stranger when one considered claims that he was actually sleeping in a nearby ditch at the time, too drunk to even stand.

Alas, five years later, Yelena passed away in her sleep, and was buried on the same day. The priest did the rites, a few people who'd barely known her tried to say some good things, and they left.

The dirt over the grave was still loose when he snuck out and turned into a bird, flying southward.

For the next thirteen years, he spent some time in Manchuria and Japan, assuming all sorts of identities. He was a fisherman, a farmer, a hunter, a teacher; he learned as much about the world as he could. It was different from Krypton in many ways, but there were similarities as well. Perhaps, in time, he could see the same spark in them that he'd seen in that lost world.

The Great War, however, showed that he had a long way to go.

He left the human world during that time, opting to live in the oceans as a variety of creatures. While Europe ravaged itself over foolish politics, he swam in the depths as a shark, or crawled over the seabed as an octopus. Yet, occasionally the human world would even reach him at those depths, in the form of sunken boats, many with bodies trapped in the wreckage.

It pained him, knowing that Krypton had once been like this; even such a beautiful world had horrific beginnings. He instead focused on the better aspects of humanity, the aspects that would one day lead them to greatness. Even in the murky depths of the Atlantic, he could hear in his mind the carols sung during the Christmas truces, and it gave him hope.

Eventually, the war ended, and he rejoined the human world once more.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was during the summer of 1932 that he first became John Jones.

In a world where most information was still written down by hand, it was easy to make a person. It was even easier for him, considering that he could fabricate the documents himself, and with an accuracy that'd make any counterfeiter green with envy.

And so, when he strolled up to a local police academy, they didn't find anything off about Mr. John Jones. Trenton native, born on October 13th, 1906. Single child of deceased parents, and high school graduate.

It felt good, being John. Instead of passively observing, he could finally _act,_ without feeling like he was interfering too much. He didn't graduate with the highest marks (that honor belonged to Smith), but that was a choice on his part. For a Martian trying to fly under the radar, notability was the last thing he wanted.

After a few months working in Boston, he decided to move to New York City. The Great Depression was an intriguing time, in that it showed the best and worst of people. News of another global conflict even worse than the previous one gave him some worry, but he ultimately dismissed it. The humans couldn't be _that_ short-sighted.

He made an odd friend while stationed in New York, a man of exceptional talent and drive. Though, perhaps, friend wasn't the right word. They trusted each other after some time, and they were willing to help each other, but they never socialized much. The human world seemed rather mundane in a lot of aspects; it wasn't every day you met one that didn't fit the mold.

Especially by dressing up as a flying mammal and dismantling the local mob with his bare hands and wits.

That was a strange time, he had to admit.

During that time, he also preoccupied himself with meteorological updates, as well as astronomy. He pored over whatever information he could find, searching for anything suspicious, like unusual falling stars. Communication with the pod was finicky at best; he couldn't rely on it to determine where Zara would eventually land, even after he eventually got the estimated date.

Six years into his time as John, however, he finally found what he was looking for.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The rocket looked so _small_.

He stood over it, staring down with thoughtful eyes. It'd landed on a thick patch of ice, making a large crater; he was glad it hadn't gone all the way through, otherwise it could take a long time to track it along the ocean currents.

He heard footsteps behind him, snow crunching beneath thick boots, and he turned to see Bruce walk up, cape flapping in the wind. His thick uniform was slight singed, and one of the lenses of his goggles had cracked, showing the grey eye underneath.

"Had some trouble?" J'onn asked.

Bruce dusted off his shoulder. "No."

"Impressive fireworks display you pulled off with the Soviets' equipment. Think that'll keep them away?"

"It'll take months to get back and resupply, long enough for them to call it off. Normally, I'd feel bad about sabotaging a scientific expedition, but I can see why they made you nervous."

"I feel that's an understatement."

"Perhaps." Bruce looked down at the rocket. "It's a lot smaller than I'd imagined, for something from another world. Is she alright in there?"

"Time is frozen in there," J'onn replied. "Until someone opens it, anyway. She'll be alright for now."

"You're not opening it right now, I take it," Bruce said. "I can't blame you, after what I've been reading in the news."

"I don't think the world's ready for her yet. One day, maybe, but it'll be a long time coming."

They began to walk away from the crater. J'onn lifted Bruce with one arm, and began to fly back south.

"Maybe I'll be there to see it," Bruce mused, looking down at the ice floes as they sped over them. "Won't that be the day?"

"With your lifestyle?" J'onn smirked. "I wouldn't bet."

"Knowing how crazy my life's gotten, I wouldn't be surprised if I made it to ninety. Wouldn't that be something?"

J'onn chuckled at that. "I imagine even the grim reaper would find you frustrating, Bruce."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Four years later, the joke wasn't so funny.

He managed to keep the public unaware of the truth, though it was a closer call than he'd care for. The funeral was a quiet affair; just a few choice friends and family. In a time of global war, the death of one man was a drop in the bucket, forgotten. The cave was sealed off, and he helped destroy any scrap of evidence, until only the legend itself remained. That, too, would fade.

A week later, Detective John Jones tendered his resignation, and disappeared from the face of the Earth. A few people went looking, but most assumed he'd just enlisted to fight in the war.

It was a funny thought. He was fighting in a war, true, but it was one far larger than the one raging around the globe.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The next few years found him adrift, in more than one meaning of the word. He spent some time as a tree in Central Park, then as a reporter in Tokyo. As he had done before, he swam in the oceans as a number of creatures, and even began to venture off-world for short times. He never left orbit, however; he needed to keep a close eye on the rocket, to make sure it was safe.

It was perhaps the only thing that kept him from leaving the planet behind for good.

After some time, however, he knew that he couldn't give up on the Earth, even as lines were drawn in the sand, and a single mistake threatened to engulf the world in nuclear holocaust. He'd seen worse on other worlds, and he'd seen their inhabitants persevere through it. And so, thirteen years after disappearing, John Jones returned to civilization, albeit as a detective in some small town called Brockton Bay.

Time passed more quietly there, in that seaside town, and it made him feel more at ease. Instead of staying shut in his apartment when not working, he'd live life like a human. He went to the bar after work with his colleagues on the force. He took the occasional date to the movie theater, though it never went further than that. Occasionally, he'd explore other places, doing the same thing, but Brockton was familiar ground.

It also offered him the ease to sit back and watch humanity develop, taking baby steps closer to the legacy of Krypton, both socially and technologically. When Sputnik was launched, he sat with a few others, listening to the beeps on the radio. Under a different identity, he visited Woodstock, though he quickly left. He cheered with some friends in the bar when Neil Armstrong took his historic first step.

His friends wondered why he had such a wry smile during the Viking landings.

Even if Earth wasn't Krypton, it still had its merits. Every time he checked on the rocket, still frozen in the ice, he was less and less anxious about letting someone find it. Things were shaping up, on scales both big and small.

Naturally, the good times had to end.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Morning, John."

"Morning, Phyllis," he replied with a smile, strolling past. "How's your knee?"

"Same as always: like a rusty hinge."

"Still haven't seen the doctor?"

"I'm going next Thursday."

"Good to hear." He walked over to his office and sat down, pulling up his paperwork for the day, along with a bag of Chocos. It'd been quite in the city, recently, and he hoped it'd stay that way.

The first hour of his shift went by well; it wasn't until half past ten he realized something was off. Grabbing his mug and a Choco, he stepped out of his office, looking around, and saw Stevens' desk was unoccupied. It wasn't like the man to skip work, and he'd never known him to take a sick day. Why wasn't he there?

Frowning, he reached out with his other senses, and felt Stevens' presence in the adjacent room, along with half the others in the building. His frown deepened, and he walked over to see what was going on.

As it turned out, they were all gathered around the television, watching with rapt attention. He knocked on the doorframe, but few seemed to notice.

"Parker, what's going on?"

The private looked over. "Haven't you been watching the news?"

It was finally then that John looked up at the tv screen, and froze.

" _Multiple reports are confirming the existence of what appears to be a golden man, floating over the Mid-Atlantic. Hundreds of eyewitnesses have stated they've seen the golden man, even making physical contact with him, but we have yet to get actual footage-_ "

His mug slipped from his fingers, and shattered against the linoleum floor.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Twelve: Manhunter**_


	31. Arc 13, Part I

The images became more rushed after that, blurring together. I got impressions of fire, and pounding rainstorms, punctuated by tearing metal and crumbling rock. Battles whizzed by, along with unfamiliar faces, until-

Silence.

J'onn pulled his hand away from me and stared, waiting. Now, I saw just how tired his eyes looked, weighed down by the billion-year burden they hid. It must've been draining for him, showing me all of that; it explained why things became so blurred towards the end.

And for good reason, too. What could I say to everything he'd shown me? All that pain and destruction and countless other things, woven into a tapestry older than some stars?

"Oh, _god_ ," I whispered.

 _Now you know_ , he said. _You are the only one alive to have seen what I have shown you._

"I-I can see why," I managed to say. "J'onn, what I saw... it was..."

 _Frightening?_ he supplied.

"I'm not sure if there _is_ a word for that level of horror," I replied. "It just makes everything else seem so... small.."

My head began to swim, my chest tightened. I leaned against the wall and slid down, as if I'd suddenly lost my balance. Images swirled in my mind, of alien faces and strange worlds, of death and destruction.

 _Breathe, Taylor,_ J'onn urged, kneeling down to eye level. _I know it's a lot to take in, and so shortly after what Dragon said._

I took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled, calming myself down. A panic attack wouldn't solve anything, even if there _was_ plenty of reason to panic. I'd been faced with my own mortality before; I could get a handle on myself. Eventually, the images faded from my mind, and I began to properly mull over what I'd been shown. It was frightening, just how much sense it all made.

"It's Scion, isn't it?" I asked, calmly. "He's the entity. He's why parahumans exist."

 _Yes._

"And what Dinah said, about the end of the world?"

 _Yes._

I shook my head slowly. Just a few moments ago, I'd thought he was one of the world's greatest champions, a bright hope for humanity. Now, though... the image had been completely turned onto its head, and it was horrifying. A lot of people had thought him to be a god when he first appeared, or an angel. Many still did; a few countries still had shrines built in his honor, preaching the gospel of the Golden Man.

It was almost poetic in its irony, really.

"That still leaves so many questions," I said. "You showed me that they began to travel in pairs, so why isn't there another like him?"

 _It crash-landed here,_ J'onn replied. _It accidentally distributed vital abilities, and someone used that to kill it. Afterwards, some began to harvest powers from the corpse, distributing them to others in the hopes that they might be able to use them against Scion._

"Cauldron," I said, eyes widening. "They knew about this?"

 _For nearly thirty years, now. It's something I've seen on other worlds; every so often, a few will learn the truth, and fight tooth and nail. I've found that it only makes their demise unnecessarily cruel, when they sacrifice what makes them above the animals, only to perish anyway. I've fought their efforts for years, knowing that._

"I don't know what to think of it, now. Doing horrible things for something this important? On one hand, I have to condemn them, but at the same time..."

 _What's the old saying? The road to hell is paved with good intentions. They might have a noble goal in mind, but their methods are unnecessarily cruel. Even they don't believe they'll succeed, and yet they sacrifice their humanity anyway, feeling that they cannot give up. It's almost admirable. Almost._

"Are you saying we should just give up, then?" I asked.

 _Of course not. But sometimes, going down fighting and sacrificing everything noble about your species, when defeat is certain, is not the right way. Krypton knew that. They'd considered taking the fight to the Entities, but it would've meant becoming a totalitarian species, conquering other worlds and making them fight in a war that would have ravaged countless worlds. Brainiac had calculated that twenty civilizations and forty trillion lives would need to be expended for a thirty percent chance._

"Only thirty?"

 _Krypton was the most advanced species in the galaxy, Taylor. Maybe in all of creation. But if the Entities adapted to Kryptonian technology and subsumed it, or learned of the Source itself... the multiverse would be certainly doomed. So the Kryptonians had opted to die with dignity, and take their knowledge with them, so the Entities could never use it on others._

J'onn paused, then added, _But that didn't mean they 'gave up'. Your very existence shows that. Your father wanted you to live and be happy, above anything else. But he also knew that one day, in the future, the Entities would come to Earth._

"Where they'd run into me," I finished.

J'onn stayed silent. A few moments passed, and I decided to speak again.

"What's the Source?"

 _I believe there's someone who could explain it better than me,_ J'onn replied.

With that, he changed into his 'public form', and turned to a panel on the wall. "Brainiac, play message K-53. Override command, _Red Sun_.

"Acknowledged," Brainiac said.

At once, a hologram of Kal-El flickered into being. I stood up to better look at the recording, and listened as he spoke.

" _If you are listening to this message, then that means you can be entrusted with_ this," heh said. " _Krypton's greatest secret, the pinnacle of its knowledge._ "

That certainly got my attention.

" _Millennia ago, we made a discovery that rocked our world, both in terms of physical science, and in the metaphysical sense. We had known for more than a hundred thousand years that the vacuum of space itself had a form of energy, but it remained a scientific triviality until a chance discovery. It was then that we christened it 'the Source'._ "

" _It is an apt name. The Source, this infinitely dense and seething inferno of energy that operates on an eleven-dimensional scale, is where_ everything _comes from. The energy of the Big Bang came from the Source. Sentience itself comes from the Source, and in turn our minds create structures in the chaos, structures that endure after our bodies cease to function. Some that are more spiritually inclined say that this is definitive proof of the soul, but there is no knowing what comes after death._ "

My breath caught at that. The auras I'd been seeing... were souls?

" _The Source is what gives you your powers, Zara,"_ Kal-El continued. " _Yellow s_ _unlight catalyzes it, in what I call the Photonucleic effect. As you age, and your exposure to sunlight continues, you will be able to access it more freely, and with more power. The energy of the Source is infinite, and you are able to wield it, manipulate it, if only by increments. The only limits are the ones that exist in your mind, Zara. Overcome them, and you can do anything._ "

With that, the hologram flickered out of existence. I turned to J'onn, almost numbly. My head was swimming again, and I almost felt like I was going to faint.

"I have to go," I managed to say.

J'onn didn't try to stop me. A nanosecond later, I was out of the Fortress, soaring upwards. I quickly left the surly bonds of the Earth, the last vestiges of the atmosphere whipping away from me, and kept on going. When I was in the shadow of the Moon, I finally decided to stop, and just _drifted_.

It was all too much, in too short a time. Thoughts and images flooded my mind, unbidden. I was going to die in a year. The world was going to end in a year. The Source. Souls. Scion. Dying.

I don't know how long I was there; maybe a minute, maybe an hour. All I knew was that I was just drifting, grappling with my thoughts, until I saw a light in the corner of my eye. Not the Sun, but something far softer.

Earth.

I turned to look at it fully, and everything just _stopped_. Time slowed to a crawl, so that everything was frozen. The flurry of images and thoughts disappeared from my mind as I stared at the curious and beautiful blue world before me, as if I'd never seen it before.

Words could never describe the beauty of it all. The way the light of the sun danced over the waves, the radio waves bouncing around the ionosphere, the countless auras dotting the globe... To think...

My fists clenched. _No._

The world wasn't going to end, not on my watch. This was my home, and I wasn't going to let some multidimensional _parasite_ take it all away just like that. He wasn't going to take away Brockton Bay, or Emma, or Dad or Weld or anyone else.

This was _my_ world, not his.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

J'onn was still there, staring out the window, when I came back to the Fortress. He looked my way as I walked up to him, taken aback by the force in my stride.

"Are you alright, Taylor?" he asked.

"Better, now," I replied. "I had a lot of time to think and clear my thoughts, and I know what I want to do. Gather up the others; we're holding a meeting."

"For what?"

"For saving the world, of course," I said, matter-of-factly. "I only have a year left, right? Then I have a lot to do before I check out, and not much time to do it."

"You're going to tell them what I told you?" J'onn frowned. "Taylor, I'm not sure if it's wise to do so."

"We're the Justice League, aren't we? We work together; that's the whole point of this team. Together, we beat the Slaughterhouse Nine and saved the city without a casualty; do you think I could've done that on my own, when I had Kon on my hands? For something this big, _we_ need to do it. Not just me, not just you."

J'onn smiled at that. "That's the Taylor I know. I'll call the others over for the meeting."

"Thank you," I said. "Same room as normal."

"Got it." He went to leave, only for me to grab his wrist.

"One last thing," I said. "I already swore Dragon and Colin to secrecy about my, er..."

J'onn nodded solemnly. "It's safe with me, Taylor."

"Thank you," I said. "I don't want them distracted with that, not when there's so much to do. I'll tell them when I'm ready."

"I understand, Taylor." And with that, he flew to the meeting room.

I stayed there for a few moments, staring out the window. My mind was racing, putting ideas together like clockwork. If there was no way to stop the chain reaction that was killing me, then I was going to leave the world a better place than I'd left it. I needed to clean up the streets, help the nations affected by warlords get back on their feet, stop the remaining Endbringers, and handle Cauldron. I needed to cure Noelle, and leave a better Justice League in my wake.

And above all, I was going do everything in my power to make sure that _worm_ would never hurt my world, even if was the last thing I ever did. If he so much as lifted a golden finger against it, he was going to see what happens when the Last Daughter of Krypton cuts loose.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Dennis drummed his fingers nervously on the top of his helmet, eyes darting back and forth between everyone else at the table, as if to gauge their reactions. The color had drained from his face, and his heartbeat sounded like a rabbit's, pounding against his chest.

To be fair, the others had the same reaction. At least, those with blood.

"So-" He coughed again, then continued. "Uh, let me get this straight. Scion- as in, the golden guy that spends every waking moment of his life saving kitties from trees and fighting Endbringers, is actually... a giant multidimensional parasite."

"Yes," I replied.

"And the reason why I have powers, and why everyone else has them, is because a bunch of his organs are poking into our brains from across universes."

"Pretty much."

"And this same multidimensional parasite is probably going to exterminate the human race in a year."

"If we don't stop it, then yeah."

Dennis blinked a few times, then threw up his hands. "Welp, it was nice knowing all of you."

"Seriously?" Weld muttered.

"Oh, don't get me wrong," Dennis replied. "I'm not leaving or anything like that. It's just... we're screwed. Fucked. I mean, what the hell are we going to do against something like _him_?"

"Plenty," said J'onn. "The worms may be powerful, but don't buy into the illusions they make. They might seem almost like gods, but they're flesh and blood; I've killed enough of them to be sure of that."

"And like anything else, they have their weaknesses," I added. "For one thing, despite having access to thinker powers, they're not actually that smart. It's... it's more like instinct, than anything else, like how ants are able to make elaborate colonies despite having brains the size of pinpoints. They're not creative at all, which means we might be able to catch Scion off guard."

"As in, lay a trap?" Dragon suggested. "Bait him into a position we can take advantage of?"

J'onn nodded. "It's worked before, but it might prove difficult. They've wised up to the simpler ones, if only through a lot of trial and error."

"I'm sure we'll think of something," said Duncan. "It doesn't even have to be anything more than getting him in the right position, if we play our cards right. There has to be some kind of weapon that can hurt him, right?"

Colin rubbed his beard, thoughtfully. "Well, if he's actually some massive organism like J'onn said, all that meat has to be _somewhere,_ I imagine."

"Indeed," J'onn said. "His main body must be somewhere on another Earth, or even spread out across several ones. The body he has on Earth is connected to the main body, like a tendril."

"Which means he's using a portal," Colin finished. "Or several portals, perhaps. Would it be possible to fire something through it?"

"Not normally. After I managed to kill a number that way, they altered the portals, ensuring that only certain things can pass through. We'd need a special kind of weapon to breach the portal."

Dragon and Colin exchanged glances. I found myself staring at the interactions of their auras, as if they were leaving small imprints upon each other. There was almost _something_ between them, but I couldn't tell what. At least, not yet.

"I believe a weapon like that could be arranged, given enough time," Dragon said cooly. "Although, I believe we should also look into other options, instead of throwing all of our eggs into one basket. If we can't get through the portals, then perhaps we might be able to get _around_ them."

I frowned. "But how? I'd imagine Scion set it so that no-one could reach the Earth where he's keeping his body, since he's the one doling out powers."

Dennis coughed. "Uh, didn't you just punch through dimensions less than a day ago?"

"Well, yeah, but..."

"You _literally_ punched your way through a universe!" He pantomimed punching something, then grabbed his head. "I don't even know what to think anymore."

J'onn glanced at Dennis, then back to me.

"Aside from the, er, overreaction, he _is_ right," he said. "If we test and train you, now that you've been exposure to blue sunlight, then perhaps you may be able to better harness that ability, along with others."

I looked down at my hands. I could see the very fabric of reality coursing through the infinitesimal and countless structures within my body, and at the same time, I could see cells dying, bursting from the amount of energy in them.

"If you think it'd work," I finally said, "then let's do it. When do you think we can start?"

"Perhaps by the end of the week," he replied. "I'd need to first plan out the sessions."

Something told me it wasn't that, but I kept quiet. If the real reasoning was what I suspected it to be, then it wouldn't be a good idea to point it out.

"I think that's all for today," I said, standing back up. "Dragon, Colin, I want you to explore those options you were talking about. I'm giving you full access to the archives, and I'll have Brainiac supply you with anything you need. We're also going to have daily meetings, so we can better plan out how to handle Scion, and see how the efforts are going."

"Sounds good to me," Duncan said. The others voiced their agreement, too.

"Alright, then," I said. "I'm going out for a patrol; I'll see all of you later."

If it sounded odd and rushed to me, then the others definitely picked it up. I saw Dragon and Colin frowning at me as I turned to fly away, and I tried to keep it off my mind as I left.

It was nighttime as I flew out, changing occasionally to twilight and daylight when I went to more remote areas. It felt calmer that day than usual. I handled a fair share of crimes and emergencies, sure, but not as many as I often did. After the insanity of the Long Halloween, just a week and a half ago, I wasn't complaining. It _did_ leave a bit of spare time on my hands, and so I decided to make a short visit while out on patrol.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"You seem distressed," Kon said, clutching a small teacup between his massive fingers. "More so than when you last came."

I took a sip of my own tea. "Well, I've just had a lot on my mind."

"How can you have something resting on top of your mind? I thought that wasn't physical."

"What? I... oh, it's just a phrase. It means I've had a lot to think about recently."

"What have you been thinking about, sister?" Kon asked, downing his cup and pouring another from the cast-iron pot I'd brought along.

I scratched the back of my head. "I'm not sure if it's something I can talk to you about. Maybe later, but not now."

"How much is later? Now is already a short time later, if you think about it."

That made me chuckle. "Not even two weeks old, and you're already making wisecracks."

"Time is relative. One week has felt so long, when everything is so new. Or perhaps, because I am so new. But is there a difference?"

"You tell me," I replied.

Kon smiled, baring irregular rows of jagged crystalline teeth. "For me, everything is new, and since I only know it as me, then it, too, must be new. Just yesterday, I heard a great sound in the sky, like a mountain had split. I had nearly panicked, until I remembered it was thunder, as that book you gave me said. Then, I was happy, because I had heard thunder for the first time. I was almost sad when it stopped."

I raised an eyebrow, coyly. "Almost?"

"Because the thunder will come again," Kon said. "And that means I can hear and see new things before it returns, instead of only hearing thunder. If it was always thunder, then it wouldn't be as beautiful. And it's the same with the not-physical things. If I was happy all the time, then I wouldn't be as happy as I can be when I am also sometimes sad. It seems strange when I say it, but it's not strange in my mind."

He blinked a few times. "Why are you smiling so brightly now, sister?"

"No reason," I replied.

"Since you are smiling, does that mean you are no longer troubled?"

"Maybe? It makes sense in my own mind, but I'm not sure how you'd think if I said it."

"Then can you tell me what _was_ troubling you?"

"Still no," I replied lightly.

Kon's shoulders slumped.

"But maybe I can still ask you something."

He sat back up.

"Kon, if there was something, er... dangerous, and I wasn't sure I could stop it from hurting people, would you do something?"

There was a pause as Kon sipped his tea, then: "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because I might be afraid _you_ would be hurt," I replied. "I wouldn't want my baby brother hurt, especially when he's so young."

"Then wouldn't I help, because I don't want my big sister to be hurt? And if it's dangerous, it could hurt other people, and I don't want them to be hurt because of me."

"So you _would_ help?" I asked.

"It would be... not right, if I did not," Kon replied. "Yes."

"That's good to know," I said. "Let's talk about something else. Are you still afraid of heading out?"

Kon frowned. "I am not afraid. But... what if they are afraid of me? Everyone seems so."

"Am I afraid of you?" I asked.

"No," he admitted.

"And was J'onn, or the other friends?"

He looked down. "No..."

"Then that's not everyone."

"Wisecracks are not fun when I'm not saying them," Kon rumbled.

"C'mon, you should head out there. The people here are used to, well, people that don't look like others. If we cut away the horns and crystal mohawk you have going, and _maybe_ all the other spikes, then no one around here would recognize you."

Kon drank some more tea, brow furrowed.

"Perhaps... tomorrow."

"That's good to hear," I said. "I'll need to get going soon; anything you need?"

"I would like more of the books you brought last time," he replied. "And... perhaps something to help hide me, like you said."

"Alright," I said, pulling him into a hug. "I'll see you soon, Kon."

"Soon for you, a while for me," he retorted.

I chuckled, and took off, leaving him far below me. As I raced around the world, resuming my patrol, I thought about what he'd said in our conversation. His words kept echoing in my head, and as I mulled them over, I made a decision.

When I was wrapped up with my patrol, I pulled out my cellphone and made a call. A few moments passed, and the other end answered.

"Tay?" Weld asked. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing much," I replied. "Just trying to unwind a bit after the crazy meeting."

"Yeah, me too. I'm listening to some music right now, trying to forget that there's a genocidal space worm flying around."

"Well, if you want some help, is the date still on? There's some musical drama out in the theater you might like."

I could hear the soft groaning of metal as he grinned.

"What time?"

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"This is nice," I said, leaning my head against Weld's shoulder. "Quiet date, just you and me... when was the last time we had this?"

"Too long," Weld murmured. "I think our last date was when you flew me to the Moon."

I chuckled. "Oh yeah, that was pretty fun. I hope this isn't a bit of a letdown."

"Nah, I like some variation. Though, it was a bit of trouble not getting recognized on the way here."

"I guess that's the price of being part of the League. Remember when all those fangirls tried to swarm you? I could've sworn they would've torn your clothes off if they had the chance."

"Dennis was laughing the rest of the day after that." Weld paused, then chuckled. "Ya know, that happened to Elvis once. I wonder if they're going to show that in this movie."

"Probably not. It's PG-13, remember?"

"True, true."

There was a pause. Some more people were filing into the theater, sodas and bags of popcorns in their hands. For a moment, I studied the auras around them, mesmerized by the sea of thought, then averted my gaze. No point in staring.

"So," Weld began, "how's your eyesight, now?"

I frowned. "You know I don't like talking about work when I'm off-duty."

Not the real explanation for my lack of ease, but I didn't feel like telling him 'Hey, I have a year left to live, and I don't want to think about the overcharging that's killing me'.

"It's not exactly work, though. I mean, it's just something you have, right?"

"Fair enough," I admitted. I sat up a bit, fiddling with my glasses. "It was hard enough to describe it before the, uh, boost. I guess... you know how human eyes don't exactly perceive the world as it is?"

"Yeah," Weld said. "We don't see all the colors, and there's a bunch of blind spots our mind fills in. And the ability to track motion, right?"

I nodded. "Same for other senses. Well... before, I felt like I could see and hear _everything_ , but now, there's even more I can see. And I feel like I'm seeing it all as it _really_ is, instead of the filters we normally have."

"Does that mean you can _see_ through universes, just like how you traveled through?"

"Kinda? It's pretty hard, at least for now. Sometimes, I get random glimpses. A wall were there shouldn't be a wall, or some smooth-barked tree with silver leaves in the park. I was just doing some clean-up in Providence a few hours ago, and for a moment I could see fingers typing something out."

"That's pretty cool," Weld said.

"Yeah," I murmured, almost absentmindedly. "It is."

The lights in the theater dimmed, and the movie began.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"That was just _awful_ ," Weld muttered, hooking his arm with mine as we walked through the park. "I can't physically throw up, but I think I almost achieved the impossible back there."

"Seriously," I said. "The acting was terrible, and the music was even worse."

"Don't get me started on the music." Weld shook his head slowly. "Ugh, I almost feel like I need to take a shower after that."

I chuckled. "Sorry for dragging you into that. Any way I could make up to you for it?"

Weld tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Well... maybe a kiss would make it feel better."

Leaning forward, I gave him a soft kiss, then pulled back with a giggle. The sky was overcast that night; through human eyes, it would've looked almost purplish, or maybe beige. We walked through the park alone, neither worried by how cold it was.

"I was talking with Direc- er, Mr. Armstrong on the phone," Weld said. "I'm planning on staying with him for the summer. Ever meet him?"

I shook my head. "No, but you've mentioned him a few times."

"He's, uh, kinda the closest thing I have to a dad. After they found me in that scrapyard all those years back, with no memory and half a garage stuck to me, he took me in. He pretty much raised me and taught me a few good things. He even introduced me into music."

Weld coughed. "Well, I've mentioned to him a few times how I'm dating you. As far as he knows, you're just good ol' Taylor Hebert, but..."

"But?"

He scratched the back of his head. "He wants to meet you. You know how it is, when it comes to relationships, and I guess he wants to get that part over with."

I blinked a few times. "Oh."

"Nothing serious; he just wants to talk over a cup of tea one of these days. He lives down south in Boston, so you and I could head over when we have the time."

"That sounds good," I said. "Yeah, that sounds right. We could say we took the train or something, then head over. I don't think we could promise a time, though; it'd be pretty awkward if there was an earthquake or Endbringer at the same time, right?

"Right."

There was an uncomfortable silence. A chilly breeze went by, ruffling my hair.

"Is something wrong, Tay?" Weld asked. "You've been kinda off since that whole Calvert thing."

Everything seemed to slow a little as I considered how to answer.

 _Just tell him,_ a part of me said. _It's like pulling off a bandaid. Get it out in the open before you're in too deep._

 _And what if he doesn't take it well?_ another part retorted. _How would you feel if you found out your girlfriend only had a year left?_

 _He deserves to know; he's your boyfriend._

 _And am I going to put an unnecessary burden on him?_

"Nothing," I finally replied. The whole mental battle was probably shorter than a nanosecond. "I guess it's just the whole Scion thing, you know? It kinda turned everything on its head."

"Yeah," Weld murmured. "I'm still trying to get my head wrapped around that, too. Probably would be better if I could sleep on it, but I think I'll accept it after a while."

We kept on walking, both of our body language oozing with awkwardness.

"Seriously, though, let me make it up to you for that bad movie," I said after a few minutes of silence. "We could go anywhere, you know. Paris, Tokyo, the Mariana Trench, maybe even Jupiter again."

Weld snickered. "I never thought I'd ever hear my girlfriend say 'Jupiter _again_ '. Sometimes, I still can't believe I went in the first place, you know? I never thought I'd ever go up there, and suddenly..."

He shook his head, smiling. "Sometimes, I'll think to myself, 'I actually felt the surface of Ganymede'. And when I do, it's sorta surreal, like I'm thinking of some other person."

I mockingly put my hands on my hips. "Well, if you're going to react like _that,_ then we can just settle for the Moon."

A few snowflakes fell from the night sky, gently drifting downwards. Weld looked up, smiling faintly.

"Do we get to see this on the Moon?"

I grinned. "No, you don't."

Looking up, I pursed my lips and blew gently upwards, like I was trying to cool a cup of tea. A few moments passed, then the snow came down heavier, fluffier. A few flakes stuck to Weld's silvery hair, not melting, and there was something sublime about the sight.

"Show off."

"Oh shush. How often do I have fun like this?" I held out my hand, catching a few snowflakes. "I used to try and catch them, you know. Freeze a cookie sheet, get a few, then stick them in the freezer. But, eventually, they always melted."

"I guess that's half the fun," Weld said. "Enjoying them while they last."

I smiled, and pulled him in for a long kiss, hugging him tightly. For a few moments, I willfully dampened my senses, enjoying that beautiful silence everyone else heard when it snowed.

"Bsches," Weld mumbled.

"Hm?"

"Brasches," he repeated.

My eyes widened.

"Oh, come on," I muttered, peeling my braces off his teeth. "How did I forget that?"

"Maybe you were so smitten by me that all other thoughts were brushed away?" Weld offered, chuckling. "Why do you even bother with them, anyway?"

"Eh, gotta keep up appearances, right?" I replied, fixing them back over my teeth.

"The most powerful woman in the world, worried about braces," Weld said. "Makes you wonder what's the most powerful man in the world is thinking about."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Thirteen, Part I: Source_**


	32. Interlude - Norton

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 **Topic: Cape Canaveral Reopening  
In: Boards ► Non-Cape Discussions ► Places ► America  
derpritter **(Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted On Nov 20th 2010:  
Link is **here**. Just this morning, NASA held a press conference confirming that they're reopening the launch site at Cape Canaveral thanks to a large increase in budget. They aren't doing anything drastic yet, since it'll take time for everything to get back to normal, but they say they're aiming to launch a scientific satellite by Christmas.

 **(Showing page 1 of 1)**

► **imhotep** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Huh, that's pretty neat. All the power to them, I say.

► **Chrome**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
50 billion budget?! What the fuck?!

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I had to do a double take when I saw that too, man. That's a lot more than last year's budget.

► **Antigone**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I'm pretty excited to see what they're going to do with that, you know? Maybe we'll be seeing a mission to Mars in ten years...

► **Chaosfaith**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
And then Martian Manhunter will sue NASA for trespassing.

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Chaosfaith

I forgot about that shit, dude. It's fucking surreal to think about a mission to Mars when there's a literal Martian helping save the world on a daily basis.

► **Forgotten Creator**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I wonder if a certain someone had something to do with the increased budget...

coughcoughSuperwomancoughcough

► **imhotep** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I wouldn't be surprised if that's the case, if only indirectly. The economy's been shooting back up since Leviathan was killed, and the fact that there are two aliens on Earth means everyone's been talking nonstop about space. Mars this, Krypton that, where's our rocket ship, yadda yadda.

► **Chrome**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I ain't complaining.

 **End of Page. 1**

 **Topic: Doomsday Megathread  
In: Boards ► Places ► Worldwide ► S-Class Threats  
Bagrat **(Original Poster) (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)  
Posted On Nov 1st 2010:  
All the countless threads spamming the forum about the so-called Doomsday creature have been closed to further discussion, and this one will serve as the official discussion.

(Showing page 987 of 988)

► **XxVoid_CowboyxX**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I think the government should find him and blow him up.

► **imhotep** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
You've been spamming that same stuff throughout the thread. Drop it.

► **Kriketz**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Well, it is an S-Class threat; that's kinda what you're supposed to do. The thing could probably crack a country in half if it wanted to.

► **Answer** **Key**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
And how would you kill something that could crack a country in half, especially when Superwoman refuses to go after it?

Besides, it's been more than two weeks already, and there hasn't been a peep about it. If it was as dangerous as some people are saying, wouldn't it've already been spotted while attacking some place?

► **Thatdude**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Why hasn't Superwoman gone after it?

► **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
We've been over this. Superwoman gave a press conference about Doomsday, stating that it was made sentient by the S9 just because it'd be more fucked up for the League to fight a baby. A giant, spiky baby. That can shoot lasers from its mouth.

I'm inclined to trust her judgment, considering that zero countries have been cracked in two since Doomsday disappeared.

► **Aloha**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Hell, why are we even calling it an S-Class threat? First off, the PRT doesn't exist anymore, so why use the old classifications? Secondly, Doomsday's been pretty much confirmed not to be a threat, so why call it that? Superwoman could probably split the planet in two, but she doesn't have that label on her.

► **Deimos**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I think the US Gov kinda subsumed the classification system, since it's still useful to have around. I think they even have one for Doomsday.

► **Brocktonite03** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Here we go:  
Brute 10  
Mover 7  
Blaster 9

► **AverageAlexandros** (Cape Husband)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I feel like the ratings should be higher. Didn't anyone else feel it when Doomsday smacked into the Pacific? And I don't think anyone would want to be on the business end of that laser breath.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 986, 987, 988**

 **(Showing page 988 of 988)**

► **Coyote-C**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I agree that the Brute rating should be higher, but the others seem pretty aight to me. The laser breath could probably burn a whole in Mt. Everest, but there's no versatility to it. Aim seemed like shit if the videos meant anything, and it can only blow stuff up. No disabling delicate electronics, no AOE, no turning around to hit you from around corners.

As for the Mover 7, he could run fast and jump high, but he couldn't fly, so it's not as bad as Superwoman or some teleporter.

► **Morgan** **Sinister**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Power level discussions are boring. How about speculation where it is?

► **derpritter** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Somewhere nice and safe away from us.

► **Aloha**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Maybe the CUI got it?

► **ArchmageEin**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Pffffffft. First off, I don't think they'd be able to drug it and take it to some black site for reconditioning. That's an easy way for the Yangban to become a non-entity.

And secondly, if they could do that, then they'd totally show off about it.

► **XxVoid_CowboyxX**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
 _This post has been deleted, due to an attempt at witch hunting. Speculating on the location of an individual that evidently wishes to live in peace, then calling for said individual's violent death, is not tolerated on this site._

I thereby strike you with the Banhammer of Moderator Righteousness, forged in the fires of the Flame Wars, and ban you permanently. - TinMother

►TinMother (Ultramod Supreme)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
 **Alright, this thread's been festering for too long. I've had to ban multiple users due to calls for violence, flame wars, hate speech, and general unpleasantries. Speculation on individuals with a major impact on the cape scene is not a bad thing, but this thread has essentially rotted down to a pile of pus. I mean no offense to those who've been good users, but this thread has gotten out of hand.**

As of now, this discussion is permanently locked. -TinMother

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 986, 987, 988**

 **Topic: The Endbringers, Thread XXXIII  
In: Boards ► World News ► Main  
derpritte**r (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Posted On Nov 11th 2010:  
Starting a new one, since the old hit post limit.

The Simurgh attacked Madison, America, on April 9th, 2010. Link is **here**.

The Leviathan attacked for the last time in Providence, America, on October 1st, 2010. Link is **here**.

Unless Superwoman killing the Leviathan's changed anything (which it probably has, for all we know), then the next attack could be by the end of the year. Official speculation is all over the place, with targets being Western Europe or the East Coast or even somewhere in South Asia.

 **(Showing page 350 of 351)**

► **Acree**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I'm betting that if the Endbringers do keep up with the schedule, they're gonna do something big. Maybe hit New York again, since we got lucky last time.

► **Nod**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Maybe they'll hit a capital city again, like Beijing or Washington. God knows things went to hell when Behemoth hit Moscow.

► **Mac's Dual Rocket Propelled Grenades**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I think they're not going to come back up, not with Superwoman around. If she can take out Leviathan, she can take out the Simurgh or Behemoth.

► **Thatdude**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Ugh, do we want her to fight the Simurgh? Subverting heroes is the Smurf's MO, and I don't want to even consider what would happen if she messed with Superwoman's head.

► **Laser Augment**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Evil Superwoman? D:

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Of course, this is assuming the Simurgh can affect Superwoman, or if she's even popping up this time. I'm betting Behemoth's going to start something up.

► **Ultracut**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Most powerful cape in the world vs a dynakinetic? I'd pay money to see that.

► **Deimos**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
I'm sure Superwoman could handle Behemoth. Doesn't he need to spend more time for absorbing and redirecting the bigger stuff?

► **Answer** **Key**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
It seems like that, but the Endbringers have surprised us before.

► **imhotep** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Yeah, like how one died.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 349, 350, 351**

 **(Showing page 351 of 351)**

► **Chaosfaith**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:

► **Lolitup**  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
In all due seriousness, I wouldn't be surprised if they hit somewhere in South Asia. Thailand's been rubbing the CUI the wrong way, and I hear there's some legitimately scary shit going on behind the scenes in India.

► **imhotep** (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Sri Lanka? I heard there's still some tensions, even though the civil war ended a few years back.

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Maybe, but it's a rather small country compared to the US or CUI. Then again, the craziest shit seems to happen in the smaller countries, like poor Switzerland...

► **Procto the Unfortunate Tinker** (Not a tinker)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
Speaking of Europe, I hear there's a major trade deal between Brazil and Portugal coming up. I wonder what would happen if Behemoth paid a visit?

► **derpritter** (Original Poster) (Veteran Member)  
Replied On Nov 20th 2010:  
If they're feeling suicidal, maybe they'll try for Superwoman's home town.

 **End of Page. 1, 2, 3 ... 349, 350, 351**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He decided to wrap things up and log out when the librarian began to give him the stink eye. It rubbed him the wrong way, considering he was a lot less disruptive than the three chavs joking crudely by the non-fiction shelves. Still, he didn't want any trouble, and so he left.

Duke was waiting at the sidewalk for him, ears drooped. He sighed and grabbed the dog's collar, petting him on the head gently. The winter sun was low on the horizon, and he sighed as he tightened the parka around him.

"It's gonna be short, Duke, I promise. If nothing happens in ten minutes, we'll head back and I'll get a fire going. How does some corned beef sound?"

Duke made a small groan and nuzzled his hand.

"I gotta do this, Duke. Responsibility and all that. Been enough of a coward already; I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. But I guess it's time to face my fears, huh?"

Duke didn't reply. He gently pulled on the dog's collar, and they started walking back to the old bridge. Already the sun was setting, and a cold breeze was rolling over the cobbled streets, chilling him to the bone.

A few passerby gave him a glance as he walked down the street, but said nothing. Some were wearing clothing with a new emblem on them, and he snorted at the thought. Bloody hypocrites.

"I probably wouldn't have done this so soon if it weren't for the news about her," he said. "Guess it made me think more about my own cowardice, showing just how much full of shite I was. Or maybe I'm just following an example and trying to help out the best way I can."

Finally, they arrived at the bridge. The sun had already set, and there was nobody around; it was unusually cold for a London winter, and anyone half sane was already inside. Duke huddled against him, and he rubbed the dog vigorously, trying to get some warmth in the poor beast.

He sighed and closed his eyes, letting familiar smells waft by. There were a lot of memories here, both good and bad.

When he opened his eyes, the golden man was waiting for him.

"I was wondering if you were going to show," Norton said.

The golden man said nothing.

"Hell, I was wondering if _I_ was going to show. I was afraid of what I was going to confront here. Not you, of course; I'm talking about my own thoughts. Took a while to work up the courage, and I think that footage of that giant lizard getting beheaded finally clinched it for me."

Norton paused, scratching his scraggly beard. The golden man's was perfect, with no sign of acne or cracked skin. No matter how much wear and tear he experienced, he was as flawless as always, almost mocking.

"You probably don't understand. Or hell, you _do_ understand, but you just don't care." A sigh. "Guess it's not important."

Scion turned, gaze fixated on a pebble near the water. Norton paused, then straightened.

"Golden man!"

Pupil-less eyes locked with his own. To his side, Duke let out a small whine.

"I guess it's my fault for not being specific. Those Endbringer motherfuckers, right? You've been fighting them, and that's good, but it's not enough. If that nice girl with the cape can kill them, then I think you can too. Next time one pops up, I want you to kill them, or destroy them or whatever. Throw them into the fucking Moon for all I care; just make sure they can't hurt people anymore."

There was no response, of course. Norton prayed that the golden man knew what he meant.

"Another thing. I'm not sure if I'm gonna be around for much longer. I've been lucky, or maybe pretty bloody unlucky, to make it this far. Chances are the cold's gonna get me, or some bad bug. Hell, maybe a lorry'll flatten my arse. Basically, I want you to try and interact more with people if... _when_ I'm dead. Maybe you'll just find another bum to talk to, maybe not. That Superwoman girl's prolly the best bet. Have you even heard of her? She seems good-natured enough. Even if you don't do what she says, maybe you could help her out from time to time or something. I don't know."

For a moment, he could've sworn he saw a slight change in the golden man's expression. A slight crease in that flawless skin, or a twitch at the corner of the mouth.

"That's all I really got for you. Just try to follow that advice, okay? You don't need to be her best mate or something, but just do _something_."

The golden man did nothing for several long, silent seconds. Then, he flew away, leaving a faint gold trail that quickly faded into the dreary London night.

Norton stood there for a few moments, then turned around, Duke following at his side.


	33. Arc 13, Part II

Dragon had a humaniform suit waiting for me at the entrance to the lab. She offered a smile as I touched down, then gestured for me to follow.

"I know you wanted to see what we've managed to do so far," she said. "It's only been a few days, but we're already making some progress. Colin and I have been collaborating on a few of the projects, especially when it comes to the nanothorns and miniaturized weapons."

We stepped into the lab, and I blinked in surprise. There were four suits at varying levels of completion scattered around the lab, with her drones and smaller suits working them over. Three of them had the typical draconian look to them, but the fourth looked more humanoid, with a thick torso and smooth armor plating. The upper part of it was incomplete, but something told me it was not meant to be unmanned.

There were also a number of flight packs, grappling hooks, first aid kits, and other tools on workshop tables, all surrounding a large machine in the center.

"This is a lot more equipment than I was expecting," I said, looking around the lab. "How did you already make all of this? I thought tinkers couldn't mass reproduce their tech."

"We can't, but you did give me explicit permission to utilize the Fortress's full resources," Dragon replied. "Brainiac helped me trawl through the archives and synthesize whatever I needed. Tools, alloys, power sources... Kryptonian metallurgy is simply astounding, by the way. I've been making some armor plating for my suits that cut the weight by half, but with three times the tensile strength and heat resistance. I've been making communications equipment and tools for the others to use as well."

I eyed the large machine in the center of the lab. It was easily the size of a jumbo jet, though most of that came from the dozen tungsten rods ringing around it, each one the size of a telephone pole in their own right.

"Is that what I think it is?"

"If you mean an orbital weapon... then yes," Dragon said." I was hoping that you'd actually carry it into orbit for me, otherwise it'd take up an absurd amount of time and energy."

"I could put it into whatever orbit you want," I said. "Still, why do we need a dozen orbital kinetic impactors?"

"I think even Scion would notice a twenty-ton object with the surface area of a dinner plate hitting him at Mach 10. Might not do much, but even a half-second's distraction could make a difference. Besides, it has other uses. Scion might be the main objective, but that doesn't mean he's the only one."

"Like the Endbringers?"

"After fighting them over a dozen times, one prepares for the worst when it comes to them," Dragon said. "What if another one appears, or what if Behemoth and Simurgh pull more tricks out of their sleeves?"

"Fair enough. Anything else you need up in orbit?"

"Tracking satellites would definitely be appreciated. Brainiac could just synthesize those without my input, and you could bring them up along with the weapon. Oh, and I'd also like some enriched uranium and plutonium; there just isn't enough in the ground around here for what I need."

I blinked. "You're making nuclear weapons?"

"Yes, but not bombs. I'm going to use the warheads in tandem timelock technology to make Casaba howitzers."

"Aren't those nuclear flamethrowers?"

"That was with tech from the sixties. When the casing's timelocked, you're looking at a tight particle beam that would punch through almost anything. I think even Behemoth would feel a hit from that."

I pursed my lips. Dragon took notice, and sighed.

"Taylor, we're going up against something that might be even more powerful than you. If this was anything else, I'd probably agree with your concerns, but for someone like _him_ , we're going to need to pull out the stops."

"It still makes me uncomfortable," I said. "By the end of the month, this room could have more firepower than the rest of the world combined."

"Any room has more firepower than the rest of the world when you step into it," Dragon retorted. "What I have so far might as well be peashooters next to you."

I frowned. "Still, I wouldn't want any of this to fall into the wrong hands. When the time comes, and... and if we win, I'd want anything left dismantled."

"I understand perfectly, Taylor," Dragon said, and I could practically hear the experience behind her words. "You can count on me to do that."

"Alright, then." My communicator beeped, and I looked down. "Gotta go; J'onn's calling me down for practice."

"Take care," Dragon said.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

J'onn was waiting for me in one of the Fortress's larger rooms, one that hadn't been used yet. He was standing in the center of it, arms folded behind his back, like he was the instructor at some dojo.

"Glad to see you could make it," he said, watching me fly over. "I understand that you're pressed for time, but we can work far faster than just about anyone else; I think five minutes is more than enough for today."

"What are we covering?" I asked.

In response, J'onn telekinetically brought a steel block the size of a microwave over. Peering inside, I saw that it was actually a hermetically-sealed box, with its sole content being a single penny.

"The first thing I'm going to teach you is phasing," he said. "But first, we must start with the basics. Tell me: are we actually solid?"

I shook my head. "Not really. We're mainly empty space; the nucleus of an atom is a tiny fraction of the volume, but the interactions of electron shells give off the impression of being solid."

"Indeed. All of your mass could be compressed into the size of a pinhead. Smaller, even."

"So what does this have to do with phasing?"

"How can you be so durable, yet have skin no less pliant than anyone else? You subconsciously alter your subatomic structure, making yourself virtually indestructible."

"And I could go in the opposite direction," I finished. "Are you seriously saying I could phase through stuff just like you?"

"There's no reason why not," J'onn said. "Which is why I'm doing this. Observe closely as I phase, then see if you can replicate the result."

"Okay, then."

I watched as J'onn slowly moved his hand towards the box. When it was within a few millimeters of the surface, it _changed_. To the normal eye, his hand would've become a little translucent, like a phantom, but it was far more startling on the subatomic level. The Source was acting strangely around the individual particles, in a way that can't be put in words. The atoms in his hand and the atoms composing the box brushed past each other, never interacting.

J'onn withdrew his hand. "Now, you try the same."

I looked down at my own hand, thinking back to when I'd vibrated my atomic structure and punched between universes. Slowly, I began to try and replicate what J'onn did, willing it to be so.

There. A slight flicker, a moment of translucence. Warily, I moved to touch the box, extending the tip of my index finger, and...

I simply tapped the surface with a very solid fingertip.

"I wasn't expecting you to get it the first time," J'onn said. "It took me some time to master the skill. The abilities you wield through the Source are almost purely mental ones, and so it requires a certain frame of mind. You need to hone your focus for this. You don't just _want_ to phase through; you _will_ phase through. Now, try it again."

Taking a deep breath, I looked down at my hand again, focusing on the effect I saw before. Quicker than before, the flickering returned, and I once again moved to touch the box. My breath hitched as my fingertip simply _passed through_ , as if there was nothing in its way. I stared in astonishment, and felt a bit of giddiness.

Unfortunately, it didn't last. The flickering stopped, and sparks flew as my fingertip basically vibrated a piece of the box to pieces, like a high-power cutter. I pulled away, sighing again.

"Good," J'onn said, nodding approvingly. "You're learning quickly, even if there's still some way to go. One must maintain their concentration when phasing, lest they tear something -or someone- to pieces. Let's try it again."

I tried it a few more times, each attempt better than before. Eventually, I managed to phase my index finger through, though my hand promptly tore half the box to shreds when I tried to add more fingers to it.

J'onn floated the smoldering case away, and brought forward some one-ton weights. "I think that's enough phasing practice for today. There are other abilities I want you to hone, and I want to cover them in brief for this first lesson. Some will be easier to master, some harder."

He flung one of the weights my way, and I effortlessly caught it in one hand, not budging by even a millimeter. J'onn smirked.

"Now, let's try negation of inertia..."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Close to a month passed that way. There was little else to do; things had quieted down since the Long Halloween. Sure, there were still a fair share of criminal operations going on, both human and parahuman, but nothing extreme. A few bank robberies, the usual muscle-flexing contests between belligerent nations, and a couple of natural disasters.

Of course, that didn't mean things were static; the world was still changing in the wake of Leviathan's destruction. The economy was getting back on its feet as shipping worldwide suddenly came back. A few countries were redrafting and resigning old trade agreements, made possible once again, and port cities began to slowly resurrect.

There were other changes, more subtle than that. It was like a cap forcibly placed on humanity's aspirations had been removed, yanked free. Movies, books, tv shows; they were all becoming more optimistic, less obsessed with doom and gloom. Science fiction was making a comeback, and the world was looking up again, rebuilding their rockets and spacecraft.

It made me feel a little warm inside, seeing the world coming out of the shell it'd been in for so long.

The quieting down also meant we all had more time to train and prepare. Dragon and Colin's arsenal grew with my reluctant approval, and I placed their weapon in orbit, along with a multitude of tracking satellites.

My training with J'onn continued, with mixed results. Negation of inertia was easy; I could probably stop the spin of a small moon if I wanted to, though I was scared to try that out. The other abilities, however, weren't progressing much. Despite J'onn's continuous demonstrations, the telekinesis was going nowhere, and phasing was hitting some slow patches.

That didn't stop me from trying, however.

Once I could get my hand through steel without ripping it to shreds, J'onn moved on to denser materials. Lead, tungsten, and so on. It was a lot harder, trying to get through those, and I could feel myself growing more frustrated with each failure.

J'onn could sense it, too. Of course, his solution to that problem wasn't one I would've approved of.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The training room had changed suddenly from last time. J'onn was there as always, but now he was leaning against a massive container of osmium in the center, with the penny on some kind of pressure plate in the center. What _really_ got my attention, however, was the incendiary weapons lining the floor of the container.

"Uh, what's this all about?" I asked, feeling myself growing concerned.

J'onn folded his arms. "I've decided to shake up your training a little. It clearly wasn't working before, so now we're trying something different."

"Different's an understatement," I murmured. "Is that napalm?"

J'onn nodded.

"What does napalm have to do with phasing?" I asked.

"Ever hear of that old human saying, 'sink or swim'?" he replied.

With that, he phased inside, and activated a timer with but a though. With wide eyes, I realized the pressure plate was connected to the napalm beneath him, preparing to make a spark in just three seconds.

 _Let's see if you can get the penny now,_ " he said.

"J'onn!" I cried out.

He was still phased, which ruled out just plucking him out of the container, and I wouldn't be surprised if he actively tried to sabotage any attempt to remove or disarm the napalm. There still had to be a way, though, there were plenty of options...

The timer went to two, and I suddenly moved.

Before I was even aware of what I was doing, I'd passed through the thick osmium walls like a phantom; only a faint sensation of breathlessness as I did. Becoming solid once more, I removed the penny in the span of a nanosecond, and stopped the timer.

It took me a moment to realize what I'd just done. I looked down at the penny in my hand, eyes wide as the magnitude of my accomplishment hit me.

"You did it," J'onn said with a smile.

I glared his way, and shoved him through the wall, the thick osmium parting like tinfoil. He promptly got up, a smug smile on his face, and folded his arms.

"You crazy bastard!" I barked. "What the _hell_ were you thinking? You could've died in there, and for what? Was there literally no other way you could've taught me?"

"You finally got the penny, didn't you?" J'onn's smug smile didn't waver. "Fastest improvement I've ever seen.

I set my jaw with a click and narrowed my eyes. J'onn held up his hands defensively, grinning. Honestly, it was unnerving to see him doing something so uncharacteristic.

"I promise I won't try another stunt like that," he said. "Not that I was in any danger, anyway; I would've removed the penny myself if need be. Of course, that didn't stop you."

I looked down at the penny in my hand again, then sighed.

"I'm keeping this penny," I said. "I spent a month trying to get it; I've earned this stupid thing."

"You certainly have," J'onn agreed. He glanced at the container, then back to me. "I think we're done for the day, don't you?"

I was rather enthusiastic in my agreement.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

" _He seriously did that_?" Weld asked over the phone.

"Yup," I replied, holding my phone in the crook of my neck as I casually sewed up a tear in my favorite shirt. "I mean, I probably could've gotten him out otherwise, but I guess I kinda panicked."

" _Where did he even get the napalm?_ "

"Beats me."

" _Unbelievable_ ," Weld muttered. " _If an instructor tried that back when I was a Ward, they would've been fired on the spot_."

"Well, at least it wasn't literal in J'onn's case," I said.

" _So, does that mean you actually managed to phase like he does?_ "

I put down my shirt, and held up the penny, admiring it in the low morning light. Despite myself, I could feel a grin tugging at the corner of my mouth.

"Yep."

" _I honestly can't believe that you can do that, now. I guess I'll have to see it with my own eyes._ "

I smirked. "You suggesting another date?"

" _I mean, well, I wouldn't object to that..._ "

I put the penny down on the counter. "Neither would I."

Of course, the universe chose that moment to mess things up.

It came as a tingling at the back of my neck, like that sense of danger everyone has, except magnified as to encompass the entire world in my case. Whether it be a snowstorm in Reykjavik, or the rustling of a single blade of grass in Kansas, everything was filtered through my senses, subtly influencing my perception in a myriad of infinitesimal and countless ways that I can never hope to describe.

My work phone buzzed, and I glanced down at the text, my feeling of dread confirmed.

 _Behemoth due to emerge in Sri Lanka. ETA 1 hour. Proper authorities have been alerted. All League members, report. - Dragon_

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Thirteen, Part II: Source_**


	34. Arc 14, Part I

We arrived in ten minutes, once we picked our base camp, and immediately set about to making the spot a worthy fortification for an Endbringer attack. I helped Dragon set up the defenses she and Defiant had made: forcefield generators, missile launchers, lasers, and so on. Along Behemoth's predicted paths, I placed mines, nanothorn traps, forcefields, timelock tripwires, and three Casaba howitzers.

Setting them up was fast and easy. Evacuations, on the other hand, were easier said than done. The governments had brushed up on evacuation routes and methods after the tsunami six years back, but it was not easy evacuating almost the entire population of Columbo. Those who couldn't (or wouldn't) leave went into the Endbringer shelters, which were definitely subpar compared to American ones.

It made me uneasy, thinking of that. I could only hope we'd stop Behemoth before it got to that.

Well, I could do a lot more than hope. Regardless of how many defenses we set up, or how many volunteers we got, I knew I'd be handling the bulk of fight. Why needlessly throw capes into range of his kill aura when there was me?

With thirty minutes to spare before Behemoth arrived, I landed back at our base camp, atop a massive rock that towered over the flat plains around it. Dragon's shuttles were moving like clockwork, blasting off again as soon as they dispersed their passengers. They'd clear a few hundred meters away before going hypersonic, but it was still uncomfortably loud for those gathered.

Of course, the heat itself was uncomfortable for almost everyone there. The hot Sri Lankan sun was high in the cloudless sky, and even without my enhanced eyesight I would've been able to see the heat waves billowing in the distance. It was the beginning of the dry season, I recalled, though that didn't stop the air from being incredibly humid.

Still, it was better than fighting in the monsoon season. At least in this weather, we could actually see more than a few feet in front of us. I remembered how bad it was for everyone in Providence, when Leviathan's rainstorm made it harder to track him, and hindered the mobility of a lot of ground based capes. Hard to keep up with the fighting when the ground was muddy, or there was flooding in the streets.

Having a clear sight of the battlefield was a major reason why we chose this spot, along with distance from the fighting and easy placement of defenses. Of course, I had a feeling the League's advisor had another thing in mind when he helped us make the selection...

"Marvelous," Accord murmured, tapping his cane methodically as he stood perilously close to the edge, away from the others. One of his Ambassadors, a young blonde in a golden dress, was standing next to him with a parasol. "I've heard so much about this place. Sigiriya, Lion's Rock."

I flew down next to him, taking note of the soft glow around the spot he was standing in. His Ambassador was providing heat and sound nullification, I realized; it explained why he didn't seem bothered in the slightest by the shuttles taking off nearby.

"This used to be a palace and citadel, seamlessly combined," Accord continued. "At the same time Rome was standing on its last legs, fifteen hundred years back, King Kashyapa had made this his capital."

He pointed his cane down below. "You can still see the foundations of the city, along with the great artificial lake he ordered to be dug out. The road leads up to the maw of the great lion, long since crumbled to time, save for its massive paws. The blending of art and utility is simply astounding; Kashyapa is an admirable man in that regard."

"Wasn't he known as Kashyapa the Patricide, after killing his father and taking control of the kingdom?"

Accord waved his cane dismissively. "Details."

I pursed my lips.

A moment passed, then, "I'm glad you followed my guidelines. It's all progressing much more smoothly than it would otherwise have been."

"It must have been frustrating," I said, "having to deal with people that refused to listen to you."

"Hm." He straightened. "Do not tarry: I imagine this conversation has a purpose beyond pleasantries."

I folded my arms. "I imagine you've done your research on this place."

"I have, though I imagine you've also done your fair share, along with Dragon."

"True," I admitted, "but I want another view on the matter. Behemoth's coming here for a reason, and I want to know what he could possibly be targeting."

"I must admit, it's a rather good target," Accord said. He turned around, gesturing to the gathered native capes. "Do you notice a separation between the groups? Not entirely physical, but can't you see it?"

"Yes. The groups are Sinhalese and Tamil, right? The two ethnic groups that had that civil war."

"It was hardly civil. Suicide bombing, lynching of civilians, assassinations... and that was before parahumans got involved. Twenty years, two hundred thousand dead. It's a miracle the country stayed together. It would have most likely lasted longer, if it weren't for the fact that the Thanda got involved thanks to the Tamils assassinating a former Prime Minister of India. Still, tensions are bubbling under that thin surface, and it would be all too easy for an Endbringer to get the conflict going again."

"Anything else? It never seems to be one thing with an Endbringer."

"True." Accord turned around, and pointed with his cane. "That mountain all the way in the distance, over there. Would you happen to know anything about it?"

"Not really," I lied.

"It's called Adam's Peak, or Sri Pada or Samanalakanda. On the very summit, surrounded by a Buddhist monastery, is a depression in the rock that looks like a footprint. Four of the world's largest religions hold that footprint, and that mountain, sacred. The Muslims believe it to be the first step Adam took upon leaving Paradise, while the Buddhists believe it was left by the Buddha. The Hindus, I believe, think it was left by Shiva, while the Portuguese Christians that invaded the island believed it to have been left by Saint Thomas."

That definitely would make a tempting target for Behemoth. Looking down, I could see him tunneling upwards at astounding speeds, obsidian claws tearing through magma. He'd surface nearly eighty miles from Columbo, but such a distance didn't necessarily matter when he was involved.

"Thank you for your input," I said.

"You're welcome." Accord gently adjusted his collar. "Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to admire the frescoes."

Cane tapping rhythmically on the ground, he strolled along the ancient pathways, his Ambassador never faltering as she carried his parasol. Turning away from them, I flew over to where the capes where gathering. Most of the Sri Lankan capes, I noted with a wince, didn't have uniforms; they were rogues, like the vast majority of their nation's parahumans. A handful of them were Case 53's; Sri Lanka had the highest concentration of them in the world.

The crowd was a lot different from what I was used to. The parahuman politics here didn't have the same lines as back home: there were no heroes and villains, exactly, only noncombatants and opposing sides. Either you were someone who did tricks in the street and made quality goods, or you were someone on the level of the Thanda. There was good and bad mixed into all groups, making the whole picture a blurry one.

Not all the capes were locals, of course. There were some capes from Russia present, most likely _Krovavaya Perchatka,_ and a few ex-Protectorate members. In fact, I thought I recognized a few...

"Ah, the leading lady herself!" Assault said, barging through a crowd of Sinhalese to offer his hand. "Nice to see you again. I don't think we met _exactly_ , but we did fight an Endbringer together, and that's gotta count for something, huh?"

I shook his hand. "I'm pretty sure it does, right?"

Assault grinned. "Right. So, ready to kick Endbringer ass while everyone else watches the show? I forgot to bring popcorn, but I'll probably manage."

"Sorry about him," Battery said, squeezing to the side. "He's always this chatty, especially when we're about to be in a life-threatening situation."

"You're saying it like that's a bad thing," Assault said.

"Is there anyone else from Brockton Bay here?" I asked.

"Miss Militia, Dauntless, and Triumph," Battery replied. "We came as a... team."

"Really?" I asked. "What's it called?"

Assault tried to speak, only for Battery to subtly elbow him in the side. I had a feeling there was dissent in the ranks over the team name.

"The ENE Remnant. Not a good name, but it's accurate. We handle small-scale stuff when you aren't around. Muggings, robberies, small things."

"Why haven't I read about you guys in the news?"

Battery stared at me. "You _do_ realize Brockton Bay's your hometown, right? Another Eidolon could pop up and still probably fly under the radar because of you."

"Fair enough," I admitted. "Still, it's nice to see you're still out there, doing good."

"Eh, retirement was boring anyway," Assault said.

I smiled at that, then pushed past to join up with the rest of the League at the highest edge of the rock. I gave Weld a firm squeeze on the shoulder, then turned to face the gathered capes below. Clockblocker glanced my way, visibly sweating despite his uniform's climate control.

"You nervous?" he asked. "I mean, I'm not nervous, never am nervous, but it's totally understandable if we're nervous because we're about to fight the Herokiller, right?"

"Just follow orders, and you'll probably make it out alive," Defiant said, in what he probably imagined was a reassuring tone. "You survived Leviathan, and it's only been uphill from there."

"Are you ready to give your speech?" Legend asked.

I nodded. "J'onn, be prepared to give a translation."

"Understood."

I cleared my throat, and checked the time on someone's watch. Ten minutes.

"To everyone who volunteered to be here, I give my thanks. There are some who think that there's no need to go out and fight the Endbringers anymore, but I'm glad to see that's not everyone."

I let that sink in for a second, following some advice Legend had given me. When everyone seemed to have digested it, I continued.

"The Endbringer we're fighting today, Behemoth, is the physical powerhouse of the Endbringers. He may not have Leviathan's-" There was a small cheer at that, and I let it quiet down. "He may not have Leviathan's speed, or the Simurgh's manipulative qualities, but that doesn't mean he's a slouch in those departments. Despite his appearance, he's smarter than he looks, and even someone his size can move quickly when they want to. Generally speaking, it's good to stay at least two hundred feet away, unless you want him to catch you by surprise. With him, such mistakes are almost always fatal."

A few of them paled at that, their heartbeats spiking.

"Behemoth's kill aura is 32 feet in radius. Unless you have a power to counteract that, or are simply just incredibly tough, then you must avoid that at all cost. When possible, try and take cover as well; if Behemoth can see you, then he can hit you with lightning. He can also produce fire, small-scale storms, make himself radioactive, or produce a shockwave that can turn a normal person's nervous system to jelly from a hundred feet away."

"I cannot understate the effectiveness of his dynakinesis; if he sees an attack coming and has enough time, he can absorb the energy or redirect it at a target. Like, say, yourself. If we want to hurt him, then we must alternate with our strikes. Blast him with energy attacks, then go in for a physical strike, and so on. We cannot become too predictable, however, or he'll catch on and use that against us."

I held up my arm, letting them see the wristband. "You've all received this, and hopefully Dragon has already briefed you on these. These tell us your location and status. You can use these to communicate as well, but be warned: anyone who abuses this ability will have it removed."

There was a rumble, so faint only one with enhanced senses would notice. Looking to the distance, I saw the earth buckle and tremble as Behemoth neared the surface.

"Stand at attention, and get ready to fight!" I barked. "If there's no clear chain of command, follow the veterans of previous fights; they'll know what to do."

The capes got into position. Blasters went to the edge of Sigiriya, while the brutes stayed put. Teleporters and fliers took hold of the more specialized strikers, along with the tinkers.

"Behemoth's core is where a human heart would be," I told the League. "Focus fire there."

For a moment, as we prepared for Behemoth to emerge, I had an odd moment of self-consciousness. Just three months ago, I had the same concerns of any American teenaged girl. School, friends, boys. And now, I was leading a fight against an Endbringer.

It was funny, how quickly things had changed.

Ten miles in the distance, the ground exploded upwards, dust billowing into the air. Slowly, a massive figure rose, nearly fifty feet in height. A single eye shone through the dust, glaring our way, and a roar rolled across the landscape, sounding more like thunder than anything else.

Behemoth took a lumbering step forward, and the battle began.

"Open fire!" I barked.

At once, the blasters lit up. Balls of plasma and crystalline projectiles arced towards Behemoth, at the same time Dragon shot her lasers and missiles. Legend took to the sky, lasers blasting from every inch of his skin. Energy rushed through my eyes, and I fired my heat vision, aiming for Behemoth's chest.

Most of the attacks didn't even scratch his skin, but a few managed to make it glow in areas, or cut small scratches and nicks into his hide. My heat vision boiled away the upper layers like they were nothing, crystalline material giving way like water and his ichor turning to hot plasma. Behemoth raised a clawed hand to block the beam, letting his wrist get cut down to the bone.

Already he was redirecting the energy into the ground, causing a local earthquake, and I signaled for the blasters to stop firing. Dragon and Legend stopped first, but it took a few seconds longer for the others.

The heat faded from my eyes, and we went into the next phase of attack. A teleporter sent a bomb provided by Miss Militia, creating a crater in the ground and almost making Behemoth lose his balance. Dragon's missiles succeeded where the bomb failed, and Behemoth let out a roar as he stumbled forward-

-right into my fist.

I'd cleared the distance in a heartbeat, ignoring the faint heat in my belly, and caught him in the chin with an uppercut. The shockwave flattened trees for a hundred feet around, and Behemoth rocketed skywards, half of his face taken off. He was quick to respond, however, and he redirected the energy into the air, stopping his ascent with a thunderclap. Behemoth dropped nearly a thousand feet, pulverizing the ground beneath him.

Putting some distance between us, I opened fire with my heat vision again, trying to hit his chest. Dragon's missiles bombarded him at the same time, along with Legend's lasers and the attacks of a dozen different capes. The outer layers were pretty damaged already, but the wounds were superficial, meant for show. The problem was that the firepower needed to reach the core could possibly set the atmosphere ablaze; we'd need to get him into orbit before we could get serious.

I almost toyed with trying to phase to the core, but decided otherwise. The layers around the core were far denser than anything I'd tried yet, and that'd be an easy way to invite disaster.

The bombardment ceased, and I exhaled, encasing Behemoth's legs in ice, temporarily slowing him down. He roared, skin glowing as he melted the ice, and I swooped in for another uppercut, sending him flying back up.

Naturally, this was when things all went to hell.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **14.02**

I didn't notice at first, not when I was in arm's reach of Behemoth, lightning and heat washing over me as I grappled with him. Like before, it was a feeling that nagged at the back of my head, something that was _off_ , but I couldn't quite figure out what was wrong.

Behemoth swiped at me, and I ducked under the blow, burning away more of his chest with my heat-vision. The others kept up the bombardment as well, tearing away at the outer layers of his body. When he began to channel that into the ground, I pulled back, listening for what was wrong. It was a combination of a few small things: a change in air currents, a subtle shift in gravity waves, radio communications...

" _-floating in the middle of the National Mall-_ "

I paused at that, my perception quickening. Behemoth seemed frozen, like a macabre statue forty-five feet high, an arc of lighting sluggishly trickling towards me. Turning, I peered through thousands of miles of rock and magma, focusing on Washington DC. Due to the curvature of the Earth, I was almost looking at the city as though it was upside down, but I could still tell what was going on.

Floating a hundred feet above the Reflection Pool was a smooth black sphere, so dark that it seemed to almost suck in any light that shone on it. The thing was a good thirty-five feet across, with no other features. No limbs, no face, nothing to break the perfect shape of its body. Right in the center was the core, just like the one Leviathan had.

There was something strange going on with the local gravity. I could see a small depression forming in the middle of the Reflecting Pool, where the stone and soil underneath was buckling and compressing. Via a manipulation of space, the sphere was increasing the gravity by an absurd degree, almost like the power Eidolon had used against Noelle.

Accompanying the sphere was a figure only ten feet tall, smaller than even the Simurgh. The head was like that of a woman's, but the skin sickly and mottled looking, like a corpse that'd been left in the sea. Her hair was bedraggled, with strands meant to resemble seaweed, and through them one could see a face set into a permanent sneer, teeth grit in fury.

Her body, however, was far from human. Six more heads circled around her body, where her shoulders would normally have been. These heads looked more like dogs than anything else, but warped into something more monstrous, like the mythical hellhounds. Each head had a single arm below it, tipped with claws and covered shaggy hair that somehow managed to look drenched without having a single drop in it. The lower body was serpentine, covered in thick green scales, and culminated in a whip-like tail, tipped with fins.

Two more Endbringers. The thought of that made my blood run cold. Every time a new one had appeared, it was always disastrous. Well, more than usual, at least. There was no telling what tricks these two had up their sleeves, and the fact they'd chosen the capital of the the most influential country on the planet made it even worse. I'd need to act fast, but I had to make sure there wasn't some kind of trap waiting for me.

Behemoth's lightning finally struck me, and I turned back to look at him. I was one of the few capes that could make it to DC in time, and I was definitely the power-player against them. At the same time, however, I couldn't just leave the others to deal with Behemoth alone.

I glanced back at the mountain of Sri Pada, its monastery capping the flat peak. If worse came to worst, I thought, then maybe the mountain could defend itself.

With that in mind, I flew at Behemoth, catching him in the jaw again with another punch. Time returned to normal, and a massive shockwave expanded from the point of contact as Behemoth flew straight up. Already he was redirecting his momentum into the air, but I'd have enough time to warn the others before he landed again.

In a heartbeat, I was back at Sirigiya, startling more than a few defenders. I turned to the League members, signaling for their attention.

"There's been another Endbringer sighting in Washington DC," I said, making sure everyone could hear me.

Clockblocker blinked. "What."

"Is it the Simurgh?" Weld asked.

"No, it's of them; temporary codename is Charybdis and Scylla." I paused, thinking. "J'onn, you're with me; not like you can do much against Behemoth, anyway. Dragon, I want your fastest suits with me, too."

"What are we looking at, in terms of abilities?" Dragon asked.

"No idea bout Scylla, but Charybdis is a gravity warper at the very least," I replied. "We need to move in carefully."

There was a sharp _crack_ , and I knew Behemoth had finally landed. Time was of the essence, we needed to get a move on.

"Let's go! I barked.

I took to the sky, leaving a faint sonic boom in my wake. J'onn trailed behind me, phased as to avoid air resistance and one of Dragon's suits rocked into the air, afterburners turned to full throttle.

I was the first to arrive in DC, flying over Charybdis, checking for civilians that needed to be evacuated. Thankfully, it seemed that they'd all run off, leaving most of the National Mall deserted. It was timely as well, considering that Charybdis's influence had expanded to the sides of the Reflecting Pool, crushing pathways and nearby trees. I could feel the force on me as well, but it was nothing compared to what I could normally do.

Feeling that familiar warmth flood behind my eyes, I opened fire with my heat vision, testing the Endbringer's defenses. To my satisfaction, they managed to dig a pair of furrows into its hide; greasy black smoke rising from the wounds. Charybdis did nothing to retaliate, but simply continued expanding its influence, pulping trees and pancaking nearby cars.

That was when Scylla attacked. The Endbringer flew up at me, one of its canine heads suffused with a green light. Extending a pair of hands in my direction, it collected a ball of light between them, then fired. I could've dodged, even at that range, but then the blast would hit a nearby building, killing anyone still left inside.

So I let attack hit me dead on. It detonated in a bright flash of light, and I found myself smashing into the ground, tarmac shattering beneath me. Sewage pipes burst, creating a fine spray, and I could see a few nearby buildings tremble. The attack hadn't hurt, but the implication was still there. I'd seen that attack before, in a documentary about the Triumvirate.

Scylla could copy the powers of capes. And right now, she was copying Eidolon.

Shooting up, I swung my fist right at Scylla, only for the Endbringer to flicker out of existence, reappearing a few feet away. Reactive teleporting, another one of Eidolon's tricks.

My eyes shone a red glare. I had a few tricks of my own.

Before Scylla could dodge, I caught her in the chest with my heat vision, nearly decapitating one of the canine heads as scaly flesh was melted away. Scylla put up a forcefield to block it, but that shattered in a moment, and I continued firing away.

Another one of her heads glowed, this time a simple white, and Scylla pulled up a chunk up tarmac with Eidolon's ability, touching it with the tip of her tail. It suddenly froze in midair, and she took cover behind it. My heat vision simply washed over the tarmac, and I realized she'd accessed Clockblocker's power.

I gritted my teeth. Just someone like Eidolon would be frustrating enough, but now I had to deal with something that could access the powers of six different capes. If she pulled up a Grey Boy, or a Glaistig Uaine...

I'd need to destroy it, before it came to that.

A trio of missiles struck Scylla from behind, and the Endbringer tumbled, giving me an opportunity to swoop in and grab her by the tail, swinging her towards Charybdis. She slammed into the ground with frightening force upon entering her sibling's field of influence, but promptly stood back up, unperturbed.

Dragon's suit came rocketing over to my side, weapons primed. I could see individual molecules splitting apart as she fired nanothorn javelins at a high angle towards Charybdis. The weapons fell down sharply once they entered Charybdis's expanding field, carving away large chunks of the Endbringer's exterior.

J'onn swooped down from above, size shifting as he assumed his combat form. Extending a hand, he lifted a chunk of concrete in time to block an energy attack from Scylla, then flung the concrete right at the Endbringer, knocking it back down.

"What's the sitrep?" Dragon asked.

"Scylla's a power copier," I said. "Already has Eidolon and Clockblocker's abilities. She might be able to access six capes total."

"Any limits?"

"No clue."

J'onn's eyes glowed. _Let's find out, then. Dragon and I can handle Charybdis._

"Good idea," I said. "Let's go."

We moved as one. Dragon's suit strafed Charybdis with lasers and missiles, ripping out chunks of its hide with each strike. J'onn flew right at the Endbringer, barely slowed by the increased gravity as he caught in a tackle, sending the two rolling through the ruins of the Reflecting Pool. From the wide circle that was the Endbringer's field of influence, I could see a thin line snaking out, following Charybdis.

Scylla took to the sky, and I caught her with a kick to the side, sending her smashing back into the ground. She peppered me with crystalline projectiles that exploded upon contact, and fireballs that splashed against me and stuck to my skin, hot enough to melt through tungsten. I ignored her attacks and swooped in for another strike, narrowly dodging a piece of concrete that she lifted and froze.

She struck me with an enhanced punch, and I landed on the White House lawn, smashing through the gates in the process. The President and the Cabinet were already in the middle of a frenzied evacuation; a helicopter had landed on the roof, rotors still active.

Scylla flew at me, sonic boom trailing behind her, and I met her tackle head on, directing her into the ground. She plowed a good fifteen feet into the soil, then rose back up, pointing a glowing hand at the helicopter. I managed to knock her to the side, making the attack miss, but I had a feeling she'd be using something less easy to dodge next time. Grabbing her by the tail, I swung her back towards the National Mall, then flew to the roof.

"Go, go, go!" I barked, helping the last few Cabinet members onboard. "I'll hold it off!"

I could see the President already sitting down, looking my way. A moment passed, then she gave me a little salute.

I nodded at her, then flew back into the fray.

Scylla was moving to assist her sibling. J'onn was at Capitol Hill, tearing into Charybdis while Dragon continued her bombardment. Even if the nanothorns could only cut away the more superfluous layers, it was still less material to destroy later.

I beat Scylla to the others, and helped J'onn along for a few moments, burning away at Charybdis with my heat vision. When Scylla arrived, I focused my heat vision on her instead, forcing her to erect another timestopped barrier.

That was when Charybdis pulled a trick out of its nonexistent sleeve.

There was a sudden shift in gravity, and I realized everything affected by the Endbringerwas falling _upwards_ , en masse. Rocks, cars, trees, small buildings... even the air was rising up, creating a horrific windstorm in a matter of moments. Buildings not directly affected by the effect began to sway from the violent winds, and I could see people trying to take shelter.

In that moment, I could feel something boiling inside of me, threatening to break out. One of the most culturally important cities in the country was in risk of destruction, icons were in danger of being lost forever, and the lives of innocent people were at stake, all because of these _monsters_. And for what?

 _And for what?!_

Scylla didn't have time to react before I grabbed her by the tail and slammed her right into Charybdis with enough force to rip two heads clean off. Tossing her aside like a piece of trash, I focused on Charybdis, grabbing at the cracks made in its exterior and _pulling_ , making the gaps wider. Like I was peeling an orange, I ripped off a good two feet of the Endbringer's exterior, letting it fall upwards.

And suddenly, the Endbringer disappeared.

I blinked in surprise. All around me, everything was falling back down at normal gravity, littering half the National Mall with upturned soil, rocks, trees, and other debris. A short rainstorm came down, the Reflecting Pool's water returning.

Where did it go? Scylla was gone, too, no doubt spirited away by the same effect. Was one of them a teleporter?

Dragon's suit landed easily, its armor scratched and cracked. "Where did they go? Did they retreat?"

"Not sure," I murmured, eyes narrowed as I searched around the globe. I strained my senses, looking for the same telltale signs I'd noticed before. "There."

The two were an ocean away, now, right over the Rio Tejo in Lisbon. Both were slowly regenerating the damage we'd dealt them, and I saw that Charybdis was resuming its initial technique, crushing the riverbed right below it.

"Follow me," I said, and took off.

This day, I thought to myself, was going to be a _long_ one. I could only hope that the others were faring better in Sri Lanka; until I could take out these two, the rest of the League was on their own.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 ** _You have been reading:_**

 ** _The Girl of Tomorrow, Arc Fourteen, Part I: Samanalakanda_**


	35. Interlude - League

An inferno was raging.

Thousands of trees were burning, threatening to blot out the sun as a massive cloud of greasy black smoke rose slowly into the sky. Millions of burning embers were pulled up by the rising heat, making it seem as though countless fireflies were swarming around the flames. The cloud was rolling forward, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the massive figure in the center of it all.

Colin's jaw clenched as the studied the scene below. Behemoth was still a few miles away, but that mattered little when an Endbringer was in play. Bolts of lightning were crashing against the forcefields layered over Sigiriya, so bright as to leave spots in his eyes until he adjusted his lens's opacity. The defenders were still alternating between physical attacks and energy ones, but he could tell Behemoth was adapting, absorbing and redirecting more with each wave.

He'd seen it a dozen or more times, and it had never ended well.

There'd been hope for this encounter, however; if anyone could turn the tide against the juggernaut that was Behemoth, it would've been Superwoman. But now she was half a world away, fighting two new Endbringers that had caught them off-guard. He couldn't blame her for leaving; at least here there was already a defense waiting for the Endbringer.

Still, he couldn't help but feel he was being left out to dry.

He chinned his HUD, activating his commlink. Multitasking was still something he was helping Dragon with, but hopefully she'd be able to manage simple conversations while manning her suits.

"Dragon, this is Defiant. Behemoth's starting to catch on to the current attack pattern; shall we throw a curveball?"

There was a short pause, then, "Already did. Take cover."

He crouched behind the ruins of an ancient wall, peering over the edge. The others were taking cover as well, ceasing their bombardments as they received a warning via the armbands. The remaining Dragon suits pulled back, jets flaring, and Colin chose that moment to duck.

There was a deafening _crack_ , as though the sky itself had split open, followed by a low rumble that Colin could feel in his bones. The forcefields held, thankfully, and he peered over the wall to see Dragon's work.

Where Behemoth had been, there was now a deep and narrow crater, dust still rising from the center. Though it was fading quickly, the contrail left by the orbital penetrator was still visible, like a wispy white tower reaching into the heavens.

"Good shot," he murmured.

"Thanks. Be ready."

A few moments passed, and Behemoth crawled out from the crater, smoke rising from a hole in his shoulder. Based on the damage to his flesh, it'd seemed that the penetrator had struck him in the neck, only glancing to the side when it reached the deeper layers. The wound was far from reaching his core, but the massive gash trailing down his flank was still more damage done than in the last three fights put together.

"Don't leave cover yet," Dragon said. "I'm preparing one of the Casaba Howitzers."

Colin couldn't suppress the chill that ran down his spine. "Already?"

"We're fighting Charybdis and Scylla in Lisbon, and there's no sign of stopping yet. If we want to stop Behemoth, we need to bring out the heavy weapons _now_."

On cue, another orbital penetrator fell from the heavens, so fast that Colin could only catch the aftermath as Behemoth absorbed the blow and redirected it into the ground, fracturing it for hundreds of feet around. The others were already taking cover, their armbands blaring an alarm, and so Colin stayed crouched behind the rock, his optics dulled to one percent as he watched the Endbringer advance.

No one had ever actually _built_ a weapon as insane as this. They hadn't had the time to properly test it; there was no telling whether or not it'd actually work, or simply destroy everything within ten miles and spark an international panic, just like the one fifteen years ago.

He could still remember when he was a young Ward stationed in Boston, watching the report of Behemoth's attack on Moscow. The news was displaying it on every channel, using the same grainy camera footage taken by some brave reporter standing on the rooftop. He could still recall the collective gasp in the room when the Russian army detonated the five hundred kiloton mine right in front of the Kremlin, the live feed going white as the reporter was reduced to atoms on the hot wind.

What really stayed with him, however, was the black and white photograph of Behemoth standing in what had been the Red Square. The Endbringer had been hurt, more than any other attack before or since, but he was still alive. The sacrifice of six hundred thousand lives, and the death kneel to Russia as a world leader, had failed to even cripple the thing.

As Colin watched the Endbringer approach the trap, he hoped they would be spared the same fate.

Behemoth took a few steps forward, and there was light.

The beam was so bright that it left a purple haze in Colin's vision, even with the dimmed visor. Violent winds howled past the base, shattering the first two layers of forcefield in the process, but ultimately Sigiriya held. The weapon had worked without a hitch.

Whether it did anything useful, however, had yet to be discerned. Warily, Colin peered over the edge, his vision returning to normal, and surveyed the damage.

The scene was like something from the Book of Revelation. The sky had turned red, choked by ash and soot from the blast. A trench the width of a superhighway had been carved into the soil for miles, tracing the path made by the shaped charge. Looking closely, he saw that the furrow was made of smooth glass, still glowing in places. The ground to the sides of the trench was as white as snow, with the few standing trees stripped completely of their leaves.

But where was Behemoth? Activating his helmet's binocular function, he followed the path of the trench, eyes narrowed. There was no way the blast was enough to destroy the Endbringer, so where had it gone?

There. Nearly five miles away, Behemoth was finally getting back up from the blast, evidently having rolled over some trees for a quarter of that distance. The beam had struck him in the chest, right in the crater Superwoman's heat-vision had made previously, melting away all but the innermost layers. In some places on the Endbringer's torso, the blast had gone all the way through, crystalline flesh still glowing from the heat of the beam. The rest of the body had also been damaged; the outer skin of Behemoth's limbs had been stripped away, ichor gushing from the scorched flesh.

And yet, the Endbringer was still standing, seemingly unperturbed in the slightest. Already, Colin could see the wounds closest to the core healing, flesh growing and expanding over crystalline bone.

The fight wasn't over yet, and Colin had a feeling it was Behemoth's turn, now.

Sure enough, he watched as the Endbringer scooped up soil in each hand. Behemoth turned white-hot with radiation, lightning crackling about his hulking frame as he began to superheat the soil, turning it red hot in a matter of moments.

Colin stood up quickly, activating his commset. "We need to evacuate, now!"

At that moment, Behemoth flung his weapons. With a staccato of sharp cracks, the glob sof molten soil rapidly broke apart as they broke the sound barrier, turning into irradiated buckshot as they arced towards Sigiriya. Only half of the chunks made contact with the forcefields, but that was enough to shatter most of the layers.

Dragon's suits and shuttles were landing on the plateau, ferrying any capes who couldn't fly or teleport to the fallback position, closer to the base of Sri Pada. Colin slung his spear over his shoulder, and ran to his shuttle. Once he was inside, the hatch slammed shut, and he took the controls. Dragon's dumb AI system was pinpointing the fallback position, and he set the course.

There was a sound like a cannon going off, and he watched as Behemoth leapt upwards, covering miles in a single bound. The Endbringer landed near Sigiriya, flattening nearby trees, then took to the air again, a sonic boom trailing in his wake as he made a beeline for the holy mountain.

The fallback site was some abandoned Portuguese fort from the sixteenth century, right at the foothills of Sri Pada. The mountain loomed overhead as Colin descended, and he could see the monastery atop it, capping it like some gemstone. He was sure if he looked closer, he would see pilgrims heading down the steps, their yearly ascent cut short by the situation.

The hatch opened, and he strode down the ramp, making a beeline for the growing crowd of capes. Already the blasters were gathering on the rooftops, making room for Dragon's weapon emplacements. Weld was helping organize the Case 53's into groups, depending on how they could contribute to the fight, and Clockblocker was scouting out potential barriers to freeze when the time came.

Normally, he'd prefer if Legend was to give a speech, but the man was overhead with some more flying artillery, harassing the Endbringer from afar. Sighing, Colin, activated his suit's external speakers, making sure everyone could hear him.

"Superwoman may not be able to come and help us in time," he said, authoritative. "Behemoth is making his way to this mountain as we speak, and we must assume that he will not stop until he reaches it. This position offers less opportunity for ranged attacks, and so we must prepare for possible physical combat with Behemoth. Those who can survive his kill aura, or otherwise provide protection, step forward."

Weld stepped forward, along with a bulky Case 53 that seemed to made out of whatever debris was lying around. Rocks, soil, branches, soda bottles, and more. A moment passed, then a short Tamil with scars on his face came forward. He was in civilian clothes, but Colin could tell he had been one of the fighters in the war, just by the look in his eyes.

"When I touch people, I make them immune to some cape powers," the scarred man said with a faint accent. "Masters, Strangers, Blasters, Strikers. Time varies, but it's never less than ten minutes, and never more than an hour."

"Do you think it will work against Behemoth?"

The man shrugged.

"Good enough. If anyone thinks they can fight the Endbringer in physical combat, get the protection applied now."

Assault and Battery went over first, followed by a few local capes. The man worked quickly, simply tapping them where skin was exposed. Soon, half the group had been given the man's protection. He spotted Flechette in the crowd, and had a moment of hope. If a bolt could pierce Superwoman's stomach, it could pierce Behemoth as well.

He chinned his commlink. "Clockblocker, stay near Flechette. She might be our only hope of stopping Behemoth, now that Superwoman's preoccupied."

"Got it," the young hero replied.

After a few moments of thought, Colin went and received it as well, then made his way to the largest shuttle, where his extra gear was stored.

"I hope you aren't doing what I think you're doing," Dragon said, wary. "There's no telling how well that armor will hold up against Behemoth."

"We need as many feet on the ground as possible," Colin replied. "And the tech in the suits are our best shot at preparing him for a killshot."

The armor was waiting for him, stooped as to avoid scraping against the ceiling. He quickly stripped down to his lightly-armored undersuit, leaving the equipment on a rack. Taking a deep breath, he climbed inside, securing the harness over his chest as he connected the implants in his limbs to the neural feedback readers. The suit closed around him, like an armored cocoon. There was a moment of darkness, then the HUD activated, illuminating the cockpit.

He tested his movement, seeing how well the biofeedback scanners were working, then grabbed his weapons. He slung one spear over his back, and held the other one like a boar pike, making sure the controls were operational as he walked down the ramp.

The miniature fusion reactor in the suit's back hummed behind him as he stepped out into the open air. Behemoth was still some distance away, but he could see the dark clouds approaching, like an oncoming storm. The capes that could fight up close were already moving out; Legend and a trio of flying artillery were leading the charge, firing away.

"You've had a lot of free time, I take it?"

Colin turned, looking down -a strange sensation- at Chevalier. The ex-Protectorate cape had joined up with the Remnant members, cannonblade slung over his shoulders. Assault was gawking at him, looking up and down at the twelve-foot tall suit.

"Good to see you're here, Chevalier," Colin said.

"Didn't feel right to wait it out, even if I can't do much."

Colin shrugged. "Still better than nothing."

"You look like the goddamn devil," Assault said. "Or a bat straight out of hell."

"It's designed for heavy-duty combat."

"Is that why it has little horns?"

Colin set his jaw. "No. Let's get going."

An explosion rang out in the distance, and Colin looked out to the forested pathway. Even here, the air was still full of smoke, but the scanners could look past that, offering him a clear view of the battlefield. Behemoth had landed a mile from their position, and was now stalking forwards at his usual gait.

Dragon's suits were already attacking him, keeping their distance as they alternated between freezing lasers, missiles, or a device that pulled out the soil from beneath his feet. His wound from the Casaba howitzer was already healing, though barely, and the suits were focusing their fire there.

Assault's expression turned serious. "Think we have a chance?"

Colin tightened the grip on his spear, and moved forward.

"We can only hope."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

As Weld ran towards the column of smoke in the distance, he tried to think of what he could do to the Endbringer.

He wasn't a ranged fighter, or even a particularly fast one. He couldn't fly, or produce forcefields. The kill aura wouldn't really do much to him, but that was a small consolation when fighting an enemy that could melt steel with a bolt of lightning, or produce enough radiation to turn the ground to glass.

He unconsciously ran a hand over his stomach, where he'd been ripped in two by Leviathan. The memory still stuck with him, even if it hadn't exactly hurt; in that moment, he'd felt so helpless, so _useless_.

Would things be different now? Since he'd joined the League, he'd been absorbing Kryptonian alloys: metals that made modern day materials science look like the Bronze Age, metals with tensile strengths and heat resistances that seemed like something out of science fiction. It'd even made him stronger, faster. But would even that be enough to fight Behemoth?

"Superwoman to fight return?" the Case 53 next to him asked, the one that looked like a pile of debris.

"Hm?" Weld asked, roused from his thoughts.

"Sorry, my English bad," the cape said. "She return to fight, you think about it?"

"I don't know," Weld replied. "I hope so."

"I hope." The cape looked over with misshapen eyes of glass. "My name Sunbun. I you know, you great hero. I to you, look up. We all vikaraya do."

"I admire you, too," Weld said. "It's brave of you, helping us fight Behemoth."

Sunbun smiled. "Maybe other vikaraya help, too, if Superwoman not come."

"Who else could help?" Weld asked.

Sunbun gestured back to the mountain. "He like you and me, but _bigger_. He _bhikku_... monk, live at vihara in Sri Pada. Help me and friend who size of elephant up mountain for pilgrimage two weeks ago. He very strong and fast, he carry him up in one hour."

"So why isn't he here to help us?"

"He tell me he take vow of _avihiṃsā_. Non violence, no hurting any living thing."

"Even now?"

Sunbun shrugged with rocky shoulders. "I do not know."

They were nearing the fight, now. A massive clearing had been blasted out by Behemoth, ringed by burning trees. The Endbringer was currently ripping one of Dragon's suits to shreds, obsidian claws tearing through armor plating with ease. The others were still bombarding him, freezing some parts of his body while firing missiles at others.

On the ground, Defiant was leading the charge in his massive warsuit. The tip of his spear opened up, firing a bolt of plasma right at the Endbringer's mangled chest, blasting away the softer flesh growing over the wounds. Behemoth roared and swiped at Defiant, only for the tinker to slide on his knees and duck right underneath it, slashing away at the beast's knee with his smaller nanothorn spear.

Behemoth produced a shockwave, nearly knocking Weld off his feet. Nearby trees splintered, already weakened by the fire, and some capes were sent back, bleeding. Defiant stumbled for a split second, but kept on running, firing potshots from his spear as he went in for another attack.

Weld could feel the air grow hotter as he approached, embers flitting about as the soil gave way to white ash. Sunbun was absorbing that ash, cementing it over the debris he was already comprised of, until he was nearly twenty feet tall. When Behemoth turned to fling a bolt at Defiant, the cape smashed into him like a tidal wave of rock and concrete, pounding away at the Endbringer's chest.

Behemoth backhanded Sunbun, disintegrating most of the cape's form and sending the core body smashing into a nearby tree. Firing a bolt, he turned half of the Case 53 to glass, but even that wasn't enough to kill the cape.

Assault and Battery chose that moment to move in tandem, bowling into the same leg Defiant had slashed. Behemoth toppled, forced down to one knee, and Chevalier opened fire with his cannonblade, flecks of crystalline flesh flying from the Endbringer's wounded chest.

It didn't keep Behemoth occupied for long. Rising back up, he clapped his hands together, knocking Chevalier down and forcing others into a retreat. Weld braced himself, feeling the shockwave rolling over him, then charged forward.

Legend swooped down and pulled Chevalier out of Behemoth's sights, blasting at the Endbringer's wounded chest at the same time. Weld used the distraction to run at Behemoth's wounded leg, combining both of his arms into a hammer. He cleared the last ten feet in a leap, spinning to build up momentum behind the swing, and struck home. More flesh tore free from the wound, and Behemoth fell once again.

Weld could feel the heat radiated by the Endbringer, baking the air. Even durability wouldn't be enough at this distance; if it weren't for the fact that he didn't really have lungs, Weld would have asphyxiated. Even then, he could feel himself heating up, like a poker left in the fire.

Defiant jumped unto Behemoth's back, the forearms of his suit surrounded by a grey haze. He simply pulled away at Behemoth's flesh, dust billowing where his clawed gauntlets made contact, cutting deep. He looped something from his grappling hook over the Endbringer's arm, pulling it taut. Behemoth threw him off, just in time for Chevalier to stab into his chest, cannonblade growing _into_ the open wound, flesh parting around it. There was a muffled explosion, and Behemoth staggered back, a crater blasted into the regenerating tissue.

The first cape fell. One of the Russians, who'd been firing a steady stream of glowing discs into Behemoth's knee, suddenly collapsed, smoke rising from his mouth. The others began to retreat, realizing they could be next now that the Tamil cape's gift was wearing off. Behemoth opened fire on them indiscriminately, striking down a few of those whose luck had run out.

Weld ran for Sunbun, hefting him over his shoulder. Running down the dirt path, he looked back to see Behemoth scooping up scorched soil, preparing another ranged attack.

Defiant ran between Behemoth's legs, skinning the inside of the Endbringer's knees, and kept on running. Behemoth slagged a chunk of the suit's armor with a lightning bolt, but failed to stop the tinker from escaping the kill radius. Defiant turned back around, pressing a button on his spear, and suddenly the cord looped around Behemoth's arm became rigid, locked in time.

Dragon's suits took the opportunity to deploy their own cords, snaring the Endbringer's other limbs. Behemoth struggled against his bonds, ichor gushing where the restraints cut into his grey flesh. The bulkiest Dragon suit rammed into his chest, jets flaring as it pushed him deeper into the timelocked cords, and Weld hoped it would be enough to sever his limbs. Even if they couldn't reach the core, maybe they could restrict the Endbringer's mobility in time for Taylor to come back...

It didn't work. Behemoth slid an arm free, peeling it to the bone in the process, and used his free hand to swat the suit into the ground. The cords ran out of power shortly after, and the Endbringer was free once more.

Behemoth roared, glowing white-hot with radiation, and ran forward. Weld quickened his pace, but it wasn't enough. Behemoth caught him in the back with a toe, punting him like he was a tin can. Weld got the impression of trees whirling by, then tumbled onto the ground with enough force to leave a deep imprint in the soil, Sunbun rolling out of his grip.

Groggily rising to his feet, Weld looked around, trying to get a bearing on his position. Twisting his neck, he saw that Sri Pada was still behind him, the fallback site in the distance. Behemoth's kick had sent him flying for a good half mile; he could actually see Assault and Battery running in his direction, retreating to the fort. Shouldering Sunbun once again, he flagged them down.

Assault barely paused to stop, scooping Weld up into his arms as he continued to run. Battery waited behind them for a few seconds, then raced ahead, stopping once more.

They made it back to the fort in less than a minute. Dragon's drones were setting up defensive perimeters to be frozen by Clockblocker, while Legend and the other flying capes continued to fire away. Weld saw that they were focusing all their fire on Behemoth's chest, keeping the wounds from healing.

The other capes were finally catching up. With a sinking feeling, Weld saw that only half had returned, though Defiant and Chevalier were among them.

"Behemoth's going to be here any moment," Defiant said, panting. "Either we find a way to end this now, or the fight's over. What's Superwoman's ETA?"

"We're still engaging Scylla and Charybdis in Lisbon," Dragon replied.

"Fuck," Defiant muttered. "Where's Flechette?"

The former Ward ran up them, shouldering her arbalest. "Here."

"How close would you need to be in order to hit the Endbringer's core?"

"Definitively? Probably in his kill radius."

"Then that's where you're going."

Flechette blinked. "What."

Defiant waved over the scarred man, who'd been reapplying his power to others. The cape ran to their position, hastily applying his power to Clockblocker, Flechette, Chevalier, and Defiant.

"We _need_ you to hit his core, or Sri Pada is lost," Defiant said. "Do you think you could apply your power to Chevalier's sword?"

"I could try."

"Let's do it, then."

Chevalier shrank his sword down to manageable levels, and Flechette grabbed the hilt. Before anyone could react, the sword suddenly expanded to its full length, nearly hitting Weld as it reverted to its component blades. There was a loud _thud_ , and twenty tons of steel, ceramic, and other materials hit the ground.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Chevalier said, scooping down to reassemble his weapon.

"We'll need to try something else, then," Defiant said. "Perhaps if we applied the power to one of the cannonballs, and had-"

It was too late. Behemoth landed not five hundred feet away, lightning crackling about his form, and charged. Weld grabbed Flechette and Clockblocker, running out of the way. The scarred man collapsed, burnt to a crisp. Defiant reached for his spear, only for Behemoth to swat him and Chevalier away like children's toys. The bulky shoulder of Defiant's suit knocked Weld to the ground, narrowly avoiding Flechette and Clockblocker.

Weld hopped to his feet, and turned to see Behemoth turning his way, skidding to a halt. One of Dragon's suits slammed into the Endbringer, temporarily knocking him off balance, but it was a delaying measure.

Clockblocker stood up, and turned to Weld with a surreal sense of calm.

"Throw me at Behemoth."

"What?"

"When he charges at us, throw me right at his chest," Clockblocker said. "Trust me."

A moment passed, then Weld grabbed him by the shoulders, pulling him off his feet. Behemoth was getting back on his feet, blasting apart a suit with ease. The Endbringer ran their way again, leaping a hundred feet into the air.

"Now!"

Like an Olympian, Weld swung Clockblocker right at Behemoth. The young hero shot upward like a bullet, extending his hands like he was actually flying, then suddenly stopped in midair as his costume froze.

Behemoth didn't have enough time to change course, his own momentum turned against him as he hit the only object he couldn't move. Clockblocker punched right through the Endbringer, staying in the air as Behemoth fell to the ground. Weld watched the monster's figure with bated breath, hoping the plan had worked.

Behemoth began to rise.

Weld stared at the hole in the Endbringer's chest. Clockblocker had narrowly missed the core, instead nearly severing Behemoth's arm at the shoulder. Flesh was already growing in to fill the wound, but for a moment, Weld could've sworn he'd actually seen the core.

They were so close. If only they could make the final step...

His eyes widened, and he turned back to look at Flechette, who was helping Chevalier to his feet. Defiant was rising behind them, armor twisted and dented.

"Do that thing you did to his sword again, _now_."

Flechette paused for a split-second, then did as told. When the ceramic blade emerged, twenty feet long, he stomped down on part of it, breaking off a segment one quarter of that length, then handed it to her.

"Apply your power to the blade, but leave the handle untouched."

She quickly followed his request, then unslung her arbalest, loading a shot. Weld hefted the jagged sword in his hand, then ran forward.

Behemoth was just getting back on his feet when a bolt pierced his chest, a hair away from his core. The Endbringer flung a bolt at Flechette, but the scarred man's gift remained after death, and she was simply knocked off her feet instead of being vaporized outright.

Weld ran into Behemoth's kill aura, feeling the heat wash over him, hotter than before. He ignored the occasional blast that struck him, making his skin glow, and just pressed forward. The Endbringer was glowing with radiation, but the ceramic blade didn't falter; it was part of the reason Weld had picked it.

The first slash cut off Behemoth's foot completely, forcing the monster to support himself on his wounded arm. Weld could feel his hair melting, running down his back, but he paid no heed as he jumped up and slashed at the wound Clockblocker had made.

Behemoth collapsed, bereft of one arm.

The core was almost visible, covered in a thin veneer of regenerating flesh. Behemoth produced even more radiation, so much that the nearby trees were catching fire, and even the ceramic was starting to melt. Weld could feel the heat in the air, in the ground, permeating him, but he remained strong. He advanced, even as he began to sink into the ground, the soil beneath him turning into magma. By the time he was in reach, he was up to his waist. Hefting the sword over his head, Weld brought it down-

-and the ceramic shattered.

No.

Flechette's power had run out at the worst opportunity. Weld let the ruined weapon slip from his fingers, and began to simply pound away at the core with his fists, molding them into hammers, even as his skin began to melt.

Behemoth rose back up, and swatted Weld with an obsidian fist. The metal boy smashed into the hillside of Sri Pada, belatedly realizing one of his eyes had melted. His chest was molten as well, and he tried to keep his silvery organs from spilling out.

Grabbing his severed arm, Behemoth placed it against the stump of his shoulder, letting regenerating flesh reattach the limb, if only weakly. More tissue grew over the core, shielding it from the world once more.

Struggling to his feet, Weld watched as Behemoth approached, the Endbringer's victory imminent.

And suddenly, hope sprung anew.

A massive shape dropped from the sky, dust billowing around it as it landed between him and Behemoth. Through the haze of his half-molten remaining eye, Weld watched a large figure stand up, ready to combat the Endbringer.

The bhikku, Weld realized.

He recalled what Sunbun had said, about the hulking figure of a Case 53. It seemed the bhikku had ultimately decided to protect the mountain, just as the monster was at the gates to his home.

Wait... there was something familiar about the figure. Weld tried to think, even through the haze of having a good chunk of his body melt. The size, the shape, even the grey skin was something he'd seen before.

Then, the bhikku turned his way, as it to see he was alright. And in that moment, as Weld saw the red eyes and the crystalline spikes growing out of the monk's skin, the realization hit him.

"Kon?"


	36. Interlude - Kon

The air was hot, muggy, and absolutely still. Insects buzzed throughout the air, dancing along the treetops, and there seemed to be no shelter from them. There was a broad pond that stretched out some distance, still and green with algae. On one side, there was the corner of some long-forgotten structure, hewn from dark stone and surrounded by tall trees. The centuries had taken their toll; roots snaked their way through and around it, crumbled stone marking their progress.

It was his, and his alone.

Sister would come by frequently, and bring things with her. Books for him to read, transcribed into the written tongue he could understand. She'd bring small treats for him to taste, music for him to listen to, and they'd spend some time talking. She told him of the world, and he would listen, utterly entranced. He began to read more and more, ever curious, his appetite insatiable.

However, when he wasn't reading or with Sister, he was learning in his own way.

There was nowhere he could not go, nothing he could not reach; the world was his walking grounds. He'd roved across deserts, wandered the Serengeti, bounded across the Tibetan Plateau, and explored the Amazon. Once, he went to the boreal forests, where his breath turned to snow, and simply sat in the shade of a bent conifer tree, absorbing the silence, staring across the snowy wastes that had never felt a human footprint.

There was no natural force on Earth that could hurt him. If he so felt, he could leap into the ocean, and dive to the deepest grottoes and trenches, unperturbed by the crushing pressures, and see the strange creatures crawling over the diatomaceous ooze. He'd climbed mountains, letting the wind howl past his face as he stood on their peaks, and watched the aurora as he gently floated in the frigid seas of the Arctic.

Once, he had even leapt to the Moon. It had been a harrowing experience, due to his lack of knowledge of celestial mechanics; if Sister hadn't given him the right nudge, he could have sailed past it, drifting forever.

The sight of the blue and green world hanging over the silver plains, however, had been worth the dangers.

Despite all of his globetrotting, however, he always returned to the same spot, his little corner of the universe. Oftentimes, he would wade into the warm water of the pond and simply sit there, listening to the buzz of the jungle around him. The animals did not fear him, after some time, and he would watch as they came to the pond to drink. If he stretched out his palm and sat at the edge, then they would occasionally brush against it, especially the deer.

He found it fascinating, watching their black wet noses twitch as they sniffed his hand. Occasionally, he'd dare to gently pet them, marveling at the feel of their fur, but they would often run away after that, only returning the next day. The birds were less fearful; they'd found his hand to be a good place to perch. He would sometimes mimic their songs, and hold almost a conversation with them.

The most interesting visitor by far, however, was the leopard.

He'd been reading at the edge of the pool when it first came to the watering hole. He heard its breath first, almost whisper silent, then the gentle pattering of soft paws. Looking up from his book, he watched as it slowly walked towards the bank of the pond, and he found himself mesmerized by its beauty. The beautiful golden fur, the way its spots rippled as lithe muscle shifted underneath; it was like a walking artwork.

There was no fear in its step as it came near. It was lord of all it surveyed, with none to rival it. For a moment, it stared at him, and he stared back; tawny eyes gazing into blood-red ones. His breath caught, and he turned as still as a statue, anxiously awaiting what would happen next.

There was a moment of hesitation, then the leopard crouched down to drink from the watering hole, drinking lightly for a few moments.

It left as quickly as it had come, disappearing back into the thick underbrush, its thirst satisfied. Kon stared at where it'd been, then let out a long sigh he didn't know he was holding.

For the next three days, the leopard returned to the watering hole to drink, then disappeared. He did not fret; from the books Sister had given him, he knew that such creatures were constantly roving, never settling for long in their vast territories.

Though he was not concerned, the leopard's departure gave him something to consider. Perhaps, he though, it was time for him to move on as well.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"I'm glad you're finally heading out," said Sister. "I knew you would come around to it eventually."

He twiddled his thumbs, waiting as she poured the tea. They'd sat down at the edge of the pool, using a flat outcropping of rock to lay out the pot and cups. The strong aroma of earl grey helped to calm his nerves, and he inhaled deeply through his nostrils, letting it soothe him.

"Part of me wishes to stay here, and avoid their judging eyes," he said, taking a cup. He sipped it, and sighed. "All they know of me is a beast; why would they treat me any different?"

"I think you're exaggerating it," Sister replied. "I've told them just how gentle you are, Kon. Sure, a lot of people might not have listened, but not all of them. Besides, there wasn't that much footage of the whole incident; a lot of people don't know what you look like."

Kon scratched his jagged beard. "But what if one who knows what I look like takes a photo, and alerts the others?"

Sister sighed, then produced something from her belt. "I had a feeling you were going to ask that, so I brought this."

"What is it?"

"It's a spool of carbon nanotube wire thinner than a human hair. If you press this button, it'll freeze, and become sharp enough to cut through just about anything. It should be able to take care of your horns and spikes, so give it a try."

Kon nimbly took hold of it, extending out some of the wire, then pressed the button. When he ran one of his knuckle spikes under it, there was some resistance, then the spike came clean off. Already it was regrowing, but it would be some time before it was at full length once more.

"It works," he replied.

Sister smiled. "See, that'll keep suspicious eyes off you. This country has lots of people that look different, more than any other place in the world. You'll be fine out there, Kon. Trust me."

Kon looked down at the tool in his hands, then sighed.

"Very well."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Sister let him go forward on his own time, while she continued to help others around the world. It was for the best, he supposed; she could only open the doors for him, not make him walk through them.

One day after receiving the gifts, he made his decision.

The horns and knuckle spikes were easy to remove, though the rest were more difficult. Nonetheless, he managed to trim all of his protrusions down to nubs, only suffering a cut once or twice in the process. When he went to study his reflection in the watering hole, he was startled by the change in appearance; he looked almost like a giant man, though with grey skin and red eyes.

It was the closest he'd ever get to human, he thought more with more than a little sorrow.

There was no need to prepare for his trek to civilization; he had no worldly possessions, save for the cutting tool and a large robe Sister had given him. He did not require a map to find his way, not when he could hear the sounds of people talking from miles away, and so he simply walked in a straight line towards the town. When he could brave even the fiercest of rivers, or the steepest hills, there was no need for detours.

Before night had fallen, he'd arrived at the outskirts. Many of the houses he saw were ramshackle compared to the ones in Sister's home city, and more brightly colored, with walls of blue and orange. The streets were rather narrow, and were often in the shade of trees with broad leaves, much like the ones around his old resting spot.

The sun had not set, and so there were people milling about in the streets, dressed in a variety of garments, and he tried his best not to stare at them. Some had dark skin, others had lighter skin; there were older men, with deep wrinkles around their eyes and white in their hair; there were young girls as well, with smooth skin and dark eyes, whose would laugh and chat with one another.

Aside from a few glances, and perhaps a double-take, none of them seemed to react terribly to his presence. A wave of relief washed over him as he strolled through the streets, and he could feel his shoulders sagging as they lost their tension.

The streets were packed with cars closer to the town center, and it was difficult to traverse the sidewalks without accidentally bumping people. It was only then that they seemed nervous, only to have looks on surprise on their faces when he mumbled apologies to them.

It wasn't long before he saw the first of the people Sister had described. Standing in one of the street corners was a squat figure, with dark orange skin and four pairs of arms, each one slimmer and more delicate than those of normal humans. His hands were moving swiftly over a number of chilled pans, pouring cream mixed with fruit onto them, then constantly dicing and flattening it until it became ice cream.

Most of the ones with powers were like this, Sister had told him. Most did not set out to fight crime, or instigate it, but simply sought employment, using their abilities to enhance or create occupations.

He passed the man by, sparing only a glance as he continued down the street. He almost wanted to stop, to talk, but he decided against it. Partly because there was still more of the city to see, and partly because he feared what the others would say.

The sun finally dipped beneath the horizon, and night fell over the city. The crowds of people dispersed, returning to their homes or to work, and he could hear the sounds of nature once more. It soothed him, and he could feel the tension of his sojourn sublimate away as he listened to the calls of birds.

Now, however, he could sense the fear of the few that were still in the streets. As he continued down the pathways, staring in awe at all the signs and buildings, they would distance themselves from him, giving distrustful glances. Did they fear him because he was a stranger, he wondered, or would they still have feared him if they knew his name?

But the world _did_ know his name, he thought bitterly. Or, at least, the only name they cared about. Would that ever change? Or would the world only know him as Doomsday, the Beast of the Long Halloween?

He felt his heart sink at the thought, and he decided to turn back for now, to return to the little corner of the world that was his, and his only. As he decided to circle back, however, he found his gaze drawn upwards, to the looming mountain in the distance. The mountain, he saw, now seemed to have a twinkling line curled around it, looping upwards to the summit, like a ribbon of sapphires.

It was wholly unlike anything he'd seen before. Was it natural, like the great gouts of fire and ash he'd seen rise from a mountain, or was it the works of Man? He wanted to ask someone, while the curiosity gnawed at him, but the trepidation held him in place. Perhaps he would simply ask Sister, when they met again.

Whatever it was, he thought, it was beautiful. His mind wandered, imagining explanations that he objectively knew would be nonsensical. He'd like to think some giant hand had woven a shining necklace, made from the ocean itself, and tied it around the mountain, like one of those Christmas trees Sister had spoken of. Or, perhaps, it was fireflies going up the mountain, returning to their ancestral summit as a salmon returned to the stream of its birth.

He found himself standing on the pathway for some time, staring up at the mountain, almost dreaming.

Then the sound of a scuffle nearby drew him back to reality, and he turned away, searching for where the fight could be.

There, in an alleyway not too distant. He hurried over to the corner, and peered around to find a pair of men kicking at another man on the ground. They were barking something at him, but his knowledge of Sinhala was rather faint; he couldn't make out what they were saying. However, a wallet and phone were lying nearby, and he quickly connected the dots.

He made his decision quickly, almost instinctually. He stepped into the alleyway, straightening as he cleared his throat.

"Stop," he said.

The two men jumped at his voice, then looked over to glare his way. One of them pulled out a gun from his pants, and pointed it menacingly at him. The other, however, pulled out no weapon, but simply raised a glowing fist. A parahuman, Kon realized.

" _Ammata hukapan,_ " the man with the gun sneered. " _Vikaraya._ "

"Stop," Kon repeated, then, "Do not hurt him."

He took a step forward, and the man fired.

Kon almost snorted at the absurdity of it. He might not have been as swift as Sister, but even to him the bullet seemed move through the air like it was molasses, so slow that he could've simply stepped to the side. Instead, however, he decided for a more effective demonstration. Raising an outstretched hand, he caught the bullet in his palm, feeling the impact like someone had thrown a pebble. Holding his hand up for the men to see, he let it drop to the ground, still steaming.

"I said..." He crossed over to them in a blur, snatching the man's gun away and crushing it like the toy it was. "Do not hurt the man."

The two would-be-muggers backed away, fear evident in their eyes. The parahuman seemed to weigh the pros and cons of trying to fight, then bolted, his friend following quickly after, screaming into the night.

It felt wrong, seeing that, even if they perhaps deserved it. He brushed aside the thought, then turned his attention back to the injured man lying on the ground.

The man was now slowly getting up, coughing as he held a hand over his ribs. Kon stepped over, trying to ignore the look of panic in the man's eyes, and offered his hand.

"Are you alright?"

The man stared for a moment, then took Kon's hand, letting himself get pulled up like a kitten. His eyes were still wide, though Kon could see that the fear had faded.

"T-thank you," the man said. "I was a fool... thought I could scare them off..."

"They are the ones to blame," Kon replied, simply.

The man scooped up his valuables with shaking hands. "You saved my life, er..."

"Kon."

"Kon. Is there anything you need? Food?"

"No." Kon, paused, then, "Though I wish to ask a question."

The man nodded with a slight jitter. "O-of course."

"Those lights on the mountain... what are they?"

The man blinked. "The lights? You don't know?"

"I am not from around here."

"I-I see. They're torches carried by the pilgrims."

"Pilgrims?"

The man nodded again. "Y-yes. All Buddhists try to walk the steps to the footprint, at least once a year."

"I see," Kon murmured. "Thank you. Do you need me to make sure you get home safely?"

"N-no; I live close by. Thank you, Kon."

The man hurried off, and Kon started the trek back to his little slice of the world, occasionally stopping to glance at the mountain in the distance.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It wasn't long before he returned, neatly folding his robe and jumping into the pool with a splash. Letting out a long sigh, he let himself sink to the bottom, and gazed at the Moon through the water, thinking deeply.

The world of humans was both awe-inspiring, and terrifying, blended into something he could not put to words. He'd been shot at, and yet, at the same time, he'd saved a man's life. The gratitude in the man's voice left a warm feeling in his chest, and a smile on his face. It had felt good, helping someone else, especially when he'd known what it was like to be the one that needed help.

Perhaps, he thought, it would be good to return to the city, and see who else could use his assistance. And at the same time, he was still curious about the mountain itself.

Yes, he would return.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Over the next week, he made himself known in the city, which he found was called Ratnapura. His knowledge of Sinhala grew in this time, as he began to interact more and more with the people he took upon himself to help.

Much of it was simple things, small tasks that would take only a moment. He'd pull a man's car out of a ditch in the morning, then go on to help an old woman cross a busy street by the afternoon, and find a boy's missing pet in the evening. He supported ladders for shopkeepers trying to paint over some graffiti, and pulled people out of a car accident.

There were few crimes when he was in the city. If he'd been a keen reader of newspapers, or more in tune with social climates, he would have realized it was not a coincidence. Still, he kept on the lookout as he walked the streets, and saved a few people from unpleasant situations.

At the same time, he tried to learn more of Sri Pada. The closer he was to the base of the mountain, the more shaven-headed men he saw in saffron robes, walking the streets in bare feet, clay bowls in their hands. Many passerby put small amounts of food into the bowls, and he wondered briefly if they were homeless, only to dismiss it.

Were these the Buddhists the man had spoken about? He did not know, and he was hesitant to make presumptions. He could enter one of the city's libraries and read about them there, if it weren't for the fact he couldn't fit through the doorways.

Thankfully, there was another way.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"What's a Buddhist?" he asked one day.

Sister paused in the middle of stirring the tea leaves. "Where did you hear about them?"

"I heard a man speak of them, saying that they go up the mountain at least once a year. Do you know what they are?"

Sister set her spoon down, letting the leaves steep. Sighing, she clasped her hands in front of her, and rested them upon her knees.

"Well, in essence, a Buddhist is a follower of Buddhism, much like how a Christian follows Christianity, or a Muslim follows Islam."

"What are those three?"

"Hoo boy," Sister murmured. "Well, they're... religions."

Kon blinked. "And what are those?"

"A religion is a set of beliefs and philosophies, often set by religious texts. They... well, they try to explain why we're here, or what it means to be us. They try to establish what is good, and what is bad, and why things are the way they are."

"Are any right?"

Sister coughed. "That's... that's probably one of the most contested statements in human history. Putting lightly, everyone has different opinions. People always interpret religion in different ways, and follow the texts to certain extents. Some even disagree over elements of their texts, or argue with other religions. Some don't follow any specific religion. Some don't follow religion, period, and even outright hate it."

"What about you?"

"I'm not answering that question, Kon, because I'll know it'll bias your perception."

Kon frowned. "Can you then tell me about Buddhism?"

"Fine," Sister sighed, pouring the tea. "It started more than two thousand years ago, in India. The founder of it was Siddhartha Gautama, who was actually born a prince. The records and legends vary, mind you, but it's said that his upbringing was sheltered, until one day he went out into the city and learned about death."

"What did he learn about?"

Sister frowned. "Well, how all things die one day."

"They do? Even if they are not killed?"

"Well, yeah. Everyone dies, Kon."

Kon paused, thinking. "Me?"

"Yes."

"You?"

Sister paused in the middle of putting down her tea, and it seemed that her gaze was elsewhere.

"Yes, I'll die one day, too," she said softly.

She put her tea down, and continued. "So, Gautama renounced his privileged life, and strove to find enlightenment. He tried being a severe ascetic, but ended up fainting and nearly drowning in a river. It's said that afterwards, he sat himself under a tree, and vowed to not leave until he found enlightenment."

"What happened?"

"Well, according to Buddhists... he found it." Sister got up, sighing. "Hold on for a moment."

She disappeared in a gust of wind, only to return mere seconds later with a veritable mountain of volumes of text, printed in the natural language he understood.

"Here are the sacred texts of the world's major religions, and some supplementary materials that explains their philosophies, sects, and criticisms," she said. "The Bible, the Torah, the Quran, the Pali Canon, the Vedas, and so on."

Kon took the hundreds of volumes, and put them down. He opened one up at random, flipping through the densely-packed pages, and set it back down.

" _Please_ don't make me regret giving you these," Sister said. "Read them, critique them, resonate with them; whatever floats your boat. But just remember to keep an open mind, and don't rush into any decisions you might regret."

"Thank you," said Kon. "I will start reading these immediately."

"Okay." Sister turned to leave, and paused. "Oh, by the way: if you ever meet someone who thinks of me in a religious context, don't believe them."

Kon nodded. "Understood."

"Good." With that, Sister left, and he began to read.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

It was dizzying, the sheer amount of material there was to read. Even with his inhuman speed, it took him an entire day to read all of the texts, and another day to digest it all. Images and words swam through his mind, of the world being created over and over and over, each time different. Mud being scraped from the bottom of an eternal ocean, and put on the shell of a great turtle. A primordial being stretching out, pushing against chaos, then producing the world from his body as he rested. Darkness, then light.

It all left him in a daze, staring at a leaf floating on the pool for hours. Slowly, but surely, he began to sort it all out.

Once he did, he slowly rose to his feet, grabbed his robe, and started walking.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He found himself staring at the first step, frozen in apprehension.

It'd been difficult, finding his way to one of the many starting points for the pilgrimage. There were few people milling about the area; the pilgrimage season had only began, and many were still concerned by the weather. It was not a concern to him, but that didn't push him to make the first step, either.

"You said that you weren't planning on actually going up," a voice some distance behind him said in English, accusatory.

"I did no such thing," another voice replied, a soft gravel.

"Well, I'm not going to carry you up there; it'd be deleterious to your health."

"I'm nearly ninety-three; that's already deleterious to my health!"

Kon turned to look at the conversation, and found that it was between a middle-aged Sinhalese man, and an incredibly old Caucasian in a wheelchair. The old man was wearing a set of glasses, and had a thick blanket draped over him, despite the heat.

"I'm not doing it," the Sinhalese man said, shaking his head. "I'm your caretaker, not your enabler."

"Enabler," the old man scoffed. "It's not like I'm going down to the seedy part of Columbo; I just want to go up the mountain one last time."

Kon approached slowly, curious about the conversation. When he was some distance away, he cleared his throat, drawing both of their attentions. Surprisingly enough, the old man didn't seem perturbed by the presence of an eight-foot-tall mountain of muscle, though the caretaker was a bit wary.

"I would be willing to carry you up the mountain," he said, carefully measuring his words. English was a third language, at best.

"Sir, he looks like that cr-" the caretaker said, only for the old man to raise a gnarled fist.

"You certainly seem like a strong young lad," the old man said, leaning back a little in his wheelchair. "Tell me, are you here on pilgrimage?"

Kon paused, then replied, "I am not sure."

"An interesting answer. I take it you have never walked up the steps, then?"

Kon nodded.

"I have, many years ago, and I wish to do it again." At that, the old man shot a glare at the caretaker. "Would you take me up there for a modest payment?"

"I do not need money, and I have no want for it," Kon replied. "I will simply bring you up there to be of assistance."

The old man nodded in approval. "Very good, then. What is your name, Samaritan?"

"Kon."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Kon. My name is Arthur, though some insist on adding the Sir."

The caretaker shook his head. "Sir, this is a stranger, and one of the vikaraya as well."

Arthur sighed. "I have a feeling he's trustworthy enough, old friend. I shall be back soon enough."

"At least take some more blankets," the caretaker said.

"There will be some being sold at one of the resting spots. I'll take one then, instead of roasting on the trip up." Arthur gestured at Kon. "Now then, good lad, if you would mind carrying the chair..."

Kon nodded, then scooped Arthur up in one arm, supporting the wheelchair against his chest. It was a secure position that wouldn't jostle, ensuring a smooth ascent up the mountain. He stared back at the first step, still feeling a moment of hesitancy.

"Up we go," Arthur said.

Kon took a deep breath, and climbed the step.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Arthur, Kon found, was quite the insightful figure. As he carried the old man up the narrow mountain steps, surrounded by misty forest on each side, he listened to various topics the man spoke of, from computers to politics. Arthur, apparently, was a prolific author, and was more than willing to share his experiences with Kon on the walk up.

"...and that's how Scion killed the science fiction genre, or at least made it dormant. A shame, really; just as we were on the cusp of achieving so many things, we started looking back down again. Parahumans and Endbringers are unhealthy for the imagination, it seems."

Kon frowned. "It seems that your fellow writers were not so easily brought down."

"No, far from it. Isaac and Robert kept up their writings until they passed, and I dare say they made some of their finest works in that time. Sadly, however, they've been tossed to the dustbin of history, all because some people can suddenly fly after a bad day."

"You do not seem fond of parahumans."

"For the most part, no. So many of them turn to crime, and it seems to have killed men's faith in logic and scientific reasoning. Do you know how many arguments I've had with anti-intellectuals, who simply refuted my works because of the fact that the Simurgh exists?"

"Many, I presume."

Arthur nodded. "Many. Of course, not all of these 'capes' are bad. One was even kind enough to cure my post-polio syndrome, though I still ended up in a wheelchair on the basis of 'being old'. And there's those that try to improve this little blue world."

"Like Superwoman?"

"Oh, she's not like the rest, not by any degree. We can't explain why the others exist, can we?" Arthur let out a wry smile. "For all of my life, I've been hoping to meet alien life. I've written countless novels, and many more papers about it, discussing what it might be like to have a chat with our celestial neighbours. And right at the end of my life, I finally do, and it's in the form of a fifteen year old girl."

"And a Martian," Kon added.

"Oh, that always throws me for a loop. I wrote a few stories that had Martians in them, then I stopped when the Mariner photos came, and now I've suddenly been forced to accept that Burroughs and Bradbury were right all along. It's too much for an old man like me. I used to be better at rolling with the punches, back when space exploration was just beginning. I still remember the arguments we had, back and forth, about the lunar surface. Some said it would be nothing but dust, pulling you down and trapping you, while some said unforgiving rock. And what did we get? Good honest _dirt_."

Kon thought back to when he'd felt the lunar regolith under his feet, and nodded in agreement.

They stopped at a small rest area, where Arthur draped himself in more blankets, and they sat for a short while on a stone bench. A rain drizzle began to come down, and Kon grabbed a broad leaf to cover the old man at his side.

"I must say, she and the Martian may have resurrected science fiction," Arthur continued. "The sky seems open again, if that NASA launch coming up means anything. I've actually been working on something for a few months, most likely my last novel. The wealth of Kryptonian texts has been giving me some beautiful inspiration, I feel."

Kon scratched his face absentmindedly. "It is beautiful."

"I'm sure she's showed you some," Arthur said.

At that moment, Kon felt his heart freeze. He glanced over, only to see no malice in the old man's eyes.

"Don't act so surprised," said Arthur. "I watch TV. I must say, getting rid of the spikes was a nice touch, but it's not completely effective."

"You know who I am?"

A nod. "I didn't say at first, since I knew it would scare you off."

"And you're not afraid."

Arthur folded his wrinkled hands. "Kon, let me tell you a little anecdote. Have you ever gone diving?"

"Yes."

"A wonderful experience, I feel. I actually came to this country for the diving opportunities. Once, when I was a healthier lad, I had one of the most memorable encounters with a creature called the manta."

"I have never heard of it."

"It is also called the devilfish, due to the placement of some fins. In popular culture, many thought of it as a repugnant creature just by name and appearance alone, but when I watched one swim gracefully by, I saw that it was one of the most gentle and majestic creatures in the ocean."

Kon fell silent for a moment. "And I am like the manta."

"As someone who's written about alien contact for decades, I know not to judge another sentient being just because of their appearance. If you were the beast that everyone else thinks, then why wouldn't there be reports of you wreaking havoc, or fighting others? I can tell that you're just like everyone else, trying to find your place in the world."

The rain stopped. Kon got up, gently lifted Arthur, and started walking up the steps once more.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The monastery at the summit was fairly small, compared to some of its brethren down below. There was a shrine in the center, and a ring of huts around it, offering protection from the elements. There was a considerable line snaking into the shrine, all wishing to see the Buddha's footprint, the namesake of the mountain itself. A few monks milled around, occasionally answering the questions of curious tourists.

After they'd briefly seen the footprint, Arthur had him go over to a small bell nearby, worn with age. Grasping the rope with a wrinkled hand, he rang it twice, the sharp sound carrying down the slope.

"You are supposed to ring it for every ascent you've made," he explained. "Go on; give it a go."

Kon gently took the bell, and rang it once. He liked the sound it made.

Once that was done, they sat at the benches, along with the growing crowd. When Kon asked why they were doing so, he was simply answered with a "You'll see". And so, he waited, playing with his thumbs.

"I wrote a story about this place," Arthur mused. "I changed the names around, but it was very much the same. From here, an engineer created the world's first space elevator, the most efficient way to carry man to the heavens. Well, if you wait here and watch at the right time, the heavens come to the mountain."

Right on cue, the first glimmers of sunlight danced over the clouds below them. Slowly, Kon watched as the shadow of the mountain sharpened, becoming a perfect black triangle over the country, then slowly gave way.

"I'm glad to have seen it, one last time," Arthur said. "Now, let's get back down."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The descent was quicker than the long walk up. There was less talking than before, too, though Arthur would occasionally mention the process of adapting an idea of his to film, and the difficulties therein.

Finally, they returned to the base of the mountain. Kon gently placed the wheelchair down, and began rolling him.

"You know, you might be more like us than you think."

Kon blinked in confusion, and Arthur took that as a sign to continue.

"One of the most compelling stories I had ever read, and which inspired my writings about the future of Man, was a work by a certain Olaf Stapledon. In it, he detailed -with some rough science, mind you- the history of Man over two billion years and eighteen species."

"What of it?"

"Well, it's no doubt that man's descendants in the far future would be quite different from us, just as we are different from the apes of Olduvai, but in an even more pronounced manner, due to the ability to shape biology itself. Perhaps it's just me being an old man, but I feel it would be more likely if an advanced _human_ species were to develop like the world of your origin, than an alien species that happens to look just like men."

The came into view of the caretaker. Kon slowed down, to better hear what the author had to say.

"I once wrote that any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. After all, what would a Cro Magnon think of a laptop computer?"

"That it is something of the gods."

"More or less. Now, another writer added a corollary to that: any sufficiently advanced _individual_ is indistinguishable from God."

Kon stopped, letting the caretaker approach.

"And seeing your sister soar the skies, it has me wondering. Perhaps it's as Voltaire once said, come to fruition. We could not find God, and so we created Her."

The caretaker took hold of the wheelchair, and began pushing Arthur away, but not before the old man shook Kon's hand and said, "Goodbye, young lad."

Kon watched the two go, then turned to look at the mountain once more.

Then, he ran back up the steps.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He was back at the summit in half an hour. There was a monk sweeping the floors near the shrine, and he made a beeline right for the young man. Many of the pilgrims backed away, as if afraid he would bring the entire monastery down with his thunderous footsteps.

To the monk's credit, there was no fear in his eyes when the massive grey figure with red eyes approached, and said in a rumbling voice, "I wish to join your order."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

As he was only a month old, he was made a samanera, a novice. As such, he was only allowed to take the initial vows, and to follow the Ten Precepts. His robe was taken, and he was given one of saffron color, larger than usual, after being taught how to wear it. There was no hair upon his head, but they allowed him to keep his special razor, as to remove the crystalline spines.

Aside from the razor, his only worldly possessions were his robes, and a begging bowl he made from clay.

As a novice, his tasks were simple ones, though his very nature complicated the process. As he did not sleep, he was allowed to meditate or study while the others rested. When the others woke, he would join them in the study of the texts, as well as some monastic debates. He learned impatience in this time, as he was forced to confront differing opinions, and he learned patience.

When he was not engaging in debates, or studying, he was sweeping the monastery floors, and collecting alms in the city when he made his daily descents. As he did not eat, he simply would use it to feed those who needed it more than he did, which caused a short debate in the monastery that ultimately ended in his favor.

Meditation was his preferred activity, or lack thereof. Whenever he had the time, he would sit in the lotus position they had taught him, and used the breathing exercises he'd learned. He'd feel the weight of the air around him, then feel himself fade with the wind. His ears could pick up the falling of a leaf, or the sound of an ant sipping from a drop. He let the sounds flow into him, then flow through him, as he became in tune with his surroundings. He'd spend all day in a state of meditation, undistracted by hunger or sleep.

After his first two weeks, there was a monastic debate regarding him. _Though he is an infant in age,_ some had said, _he has the body and mind of a man. He does not need to eat, or sleep; he has no lust for women or men. If his suffering is different from us, can his path be the same?_

 _His suffering is no different from ours_ , others had replied. _He has ego, and want. Dukkha is one of his points of existence; he has frustrations, and fear, and a sense of unbelovedness. As long as he has dukkha, then his path is our path._

The debate continued, and a decision was made. As his mind and body was that of a man's, he was allowed to take the rest of his vows, and become a full bhikku. Now, he participated more in monastic debates, and would study the texts with the other bhikkus more directly. His other duties continued; he continued to collect alms, and swept the monastery floors.

He did not know if he would reach enlightenment, or if it even existed. But he did know that his heart seemed less turbulent, and his concerns faded over time as his cravings were confronted.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He sat in his usual spot one day, legs folded in the lotus position as he continued his meditation, and slowly became aware of a change. A shift in the path of the winds, a scent of something different. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and looked.

A woman sat across from him. At first, he thought it was Sister, but she was different. Her skin was darker, her eyes colder. She was also sitting in a lotus position, but she was not there to clear her mind; she was alert, attentive, her eyes constantly scanning and studying. Her clothing was that of a western businesswoman, a fedora over her lap.

"Sister has spoken of people like you," he said simply, his voice a rumble.

"I imagine." A pause, then: "You know why I'm here?"

"No, but you will tell me."

The woman nodded. "Your vows have us concerned."

"My vows simply are; it is you who is making yourself concerned."

A frown. "Has your sister told you that the world will end in a year?"

"No."

"Well, you know now."

"I know nothing. I have only heard what someone has said; that does not change the mountains or the sky."

"Your vague koans are frustrating."

"I'm new at it."

"I'm not here to discuss your philosophy; this entire conversation serves a purpose. When the time comes, will you fight?"

"I do not seek to end lives of my own volition."

"Your vows also tell you to confess to the bhikkus if you dig a hole."

"Do the insults, too, have a purpose?"

"I only seek an answer."

"You seek my words, when you are concerned with my actions. One cannot equal the other in this uncertain situation."

"Then let us deal with more certain situations. Is it ending life of your own volition if you do nothing to stop death?"

"I cannot be faulted for the death of a bird across the world. I can be faulted if I crush a beetle beneath my thumb."

"If a brute of a man chased a woman upon here, and he tried to force himself upon her right at your feet, would you be obliged to act?"

"Of course."

The woman stared, then slowly rose. "You confound my sight, just like your sister and the Martian. But I think I've gotten a sure answer. I will not bother you again."

"That requires for you to have bothered me in the first place."

The woman sighed, then stepped into thin air.

Kon let out a long breath, then closed his eyes once more. But, to his frustration that frustrated him in turn, he found he could not meditate.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The woman's words came to his mind once more, two days after.

He was sweeping the monastery floors when he heard it. A faint tremor, growing into a horrible sound, like the earth itself was some great beast that was growling. A ringing sound reached his ears, and he looked to see that the bell was swinging on its own.

His brow furrowed as he looked around, then continued sweeping. Sometimes, the wind could get strong at the summit; it wasn't uncommon for the bell to ring like that.

And yet, he couldn't help but feel that there was something not right.

There was another sound, a steady roar that made him want to cover his ears, and a powerful rumble rolled under his feet. This time, he could see the bell _jolt_ , clanging wildly. The wind didn't come until a few moments later, and it sent dust and leaves flitting through the monastery, doors swinging open and shut.

Something was wrong; he was sure of it.

Quickly, he walked over to one of the edges of the monastery, searching. There was a crowd gathering at the entrance to the monastery, and so he went that way, taking a few steps down the main path.

There were dark storm clouds rolling towards the mountain, but monsoon season was over; this was not natural. As he looked closer, he saw the embers of a great fire, eating away at the trees like a ravenous swarm of locusts.

Some of the pilgrims were pointing at a point on the horizon, passing around binoculars. He did not need aid to see what was wrong, and despite himself, he felt a pang of fear.

The Behemoth was advancing towards the mountain, glowing like magma as it fought off small swarms of capes. Even from here, he could see the flashes of lightning as it fired at the defenders, scoring more hits than misses. He could hear its roars, unlike the call of any living creature, and it sent shivers down his spine as he realized what its target was.

"We must evacuate the monastery," the oldest bhikku declared. "The pilgrims must take the path away from the fighting, and move swiftly."

Already, they were moving. Kon moved to guide them along, pointing to the pathway that would take the pilgrims away from the beast. Thankfully, it was early in the morning; there were few people making their way up at this point, or at least high enough to be in trouble.

It wasn't long until the bhikkus were guiding the pilgrims down, helping those that were too old or too tired to move swiftly. He himself helped a few down the first sets of steps, then hurried back up to the monastery. Now that the pilgrims and bhikkus had gone, the monastery was like a tomb, utterly lifeless.

A clanging sound reached his ears, and he realized that the main bell of the monastery was ringing now, thanks to the tremors and violent wind. It'd only rung a few times before in the mountain's history, and each time had spelt disaster. Earthquakes, violent tempests, and the like. But now, it was not an act of nature, but an act of malice, the work of a monster.

One did not fight a hurricane, but they could fight a monster.

He considered his vow of avihimsa, to not harm a living thing. As monstrous as it was, was Behemoth alive? Did it fall under the purview of his vow, or would he be free to fight?

The woman's words echoed through his mind. Then, slowly, he pulled off his robe, and left it neatly folded by the shrine.

He walked calmly down the mountain, hands clasped together, his feet gently padding along the stone steps. Already he could feel his spines growing back, the nubs turning to sharp blades and spurs that could cut through nearly anything. Even if it was breaking his vow, he thought, he would do it a thousand times more. He would protect the mountain, the footprint. It would be against his vow, and himself, if he were to let the monster slaughter more people when he could do something about it.

The beast would reckon the day it came to Sri Pada.

And so he crouched down, building up power in his steely muscles, and leapt into the battle.

He landed in a patch of earth near the foothills, a cloud rising around him due to the force of impact. Rising up to his feet, he spared a glance over his shoulder to see Sister's metal lover, injured but alive. Even now, the boy was getting back up, reshaping his remaining mass in blades.

Kon nodded, then turned to the Endbringer, and charged.

Behemoth swung at him with a massive clawed fist, but he simply ducked underneath the blow, then leapt at its chest like a bullet. With nary a grunt, he slammed both fists into the monster's mangled breast, tearing away crystalline flesh with his spiked knuckles. There was a violent shockwave, and the Endbringer flew back, landing hundreds of feet away.

Already it was getting back up, roaring as it did. Lightning crackled from its horns, striking him, but he did not feel the attacks. Instead, he breathed in deeply, and let fire build in his throat.

The Endbringer could do nothing as he fired, a bright red beam blasting right into its torso, boiling away flesh and setting nearby trees on fire. He mourned the breaking of his vows, but persisted, unwilling to let the monster recover.

When the tremors began to rock the earth, he stopped, then charged once again, catching Behemoth in the face with a kick that shook nearby buildings. As the Endbringer flew into the air, Kon blasted it once more with his fiery breath, sending it even farther away. Before it could recover from the landing, he leapt at it once more, and caught it in a tackle.

Behemoth roared as it rose, skin glowing white hot as it turned radioactive. Nearby trees caught fire, and the ground beneath his feet became molten, but Kon ignored the heat, sinking up to his knees in magma as he advanced. Behemoth slammed an obsidian fist down, smashing him into the ground and nearly submerging him completely in magma, but he shoved it off with a grunt.

Leaping back up, he swiped his spikes at its wounded shoulder, severing its arm once more. Behemoth brightened, radioactive enough to turn the topsoil to vapor, but Kon ignored the heat as he grabbed the Endbringer's fallen limb, and used it as a club, striking the monster right in the chest.

That was enough to finally send Behemoth flying into the ocean. Kon leapt after it, landing right by it in the water. Grabbing it by the leg, he began to swim, taking it further and further away from the mountain. Now, he hoped, Sister's friend would be free to help her fight off whatever else could be wreaking havoc.

As he sank deeper and deeper into the waves, he felt a pang of sadness. He had been content to live his days at the mountain, collecting alms and meditating, but this beast had intruded upon his silence, and brought only fire and death. For the sake of others, he'd been forced to break his vows in order to fight this beast.

The sadness was replaced with a firm resolve. Though he wished for the world to know him as Kon, he did not have that same feeling towards this beast, this mindless force of destruction.

It was almost funny, that this bringer of the end would in turn meet its Doomsday.


	37. Epilogue - Dusk and Dawn

**A/N: This... this is kinda hard to explain, since I can't do day-to-day updates on the story's progress the same way I can on a forum.**

 **More than a month ago, I declared the story dead. My muse had gone away, and writing the story had turned into something painful. I began to wonder why I started writing the story in the first place, and began to distance myself from anything Worm-related, as I realized I only liked the story for sandbox potential, and not for themes and messages, which I like about other stories.**

 **After a while, however, I began to realize that just leaving everyone on a cliffhanger forever was a dick move, as Bird Culture would call it. I considered just posting the notes I had for the story before my muse fled, and I briefly toyed with just churning my way to the end as quickly as possible. Both of those, however, I realized were not good ideas, for different reasons.**

 **So, I compromised: I wrote this massive epilogue, which serves as almost an abridgment of the last leg of the story, told via recollections and flashbacks.**

 **Is it as good as a properly finished story? Far from it. But I think most of you will agree that it is far better than just nothing.**

 **Until next time,  
Thuktun Flishithy**

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 **September 2011**

The casket felt so light in his hand, and yet so heavy.

The weather wasn't fitting. It should've been how it was in all the movies, with a cold rain that poured, washing away all the colors. The blue skies filled with puffy white clouds felt almost like an insult as he and the others carried the casket across the empty cemetery. The sun shining on his face seemed like a cruel mockery.

There was no priest for the affair. The big crowd was for the ceremony earlier in the morning, where they all gathered downtown in uniform. In every single last city and town across the planet, there was being a ceremony held, with a collective audience of billions.

There was no crowd around the small pine casket. There was no candlelight vigil as Mr. Hebert spoke in halting words about a story from his daughter's childhood, and there was no twenty-one gun salute when Colin reminisced on the honor of having worked and fought alongside her. Only seven friends and family, and the weight that pulled at each of their hearts.

He went last. As he pulled out the creased sheet of paper that she had written down for him and hesitantly cleared his throat, he felt like he was somewhere else.

"This was a message that was left in her rocket, when she was a baby," he began, voice halting. "It's, um, something from all the houses of Krypton, that she wanted me to say here. She translated it for me, and probably put a little personal twist here and there. She said it was meant for us, not just her."

He unfolded the paper, and began to read.

"Great are the stars, to which we are dust. It is by a star that we were born, and it is by a star that we shall die."

There was a collective wince at that, more felt than seen and heard. A straightening of Colin's back, and a slight twitch at the corner of Dennis's mouth.

"We are grand, and at the same time we are small. It has been in a moment of Creation's history that we have risen and fallen, like a single flash of brilliance in the inky black. The stars did not notice our birth, and they shall not care for our passing. And yet, it is by us that they hold any meaning. Without us to have seen them, and worshipped them, and later strive for them, they very well never existed. If there is no one to witness, can something truly happen?"

"It had been our hope to become All-Knowing, and All-Encompassing. Instead, we are to perish on the same world we first came to being, destroyed by that which gave us life. We are a flickering flame in darkness. And yet, our history is vast to us, as it is all we know. We can look at us ants, and see giants, for no one else can judge us for it."

"Like a flower, we have sprung from the earth and blossomed into something beautiful. It is a tragedy of the greatest kind that the winter chill comes before we can fully take root and spread, but not all is lost. Even as we wither and die, we have released a single seed, and have sent with it all of our hopes and memories."

He paused at that. He had a feeling everyone know what was meant by 'seed'.

"The flower this seed will grow into will not be ours. Our time has passed. Instead, this will be its own flower, beautiful and radiant in its own way, and it is our ultimate hope that it shall grow into something greater than us. Even though we will have been long gone by the time this message can be known, we will still exist in our own way."

"Though we mourn our passing, we do not lash out in a final moment of hate and anger. Instead, we take joy in the time we had, for we are a song in the music of the spheres. It was very good to have been us. And so we may go forward together with laughter in our hearts, and peace, thankful for the past, and for our own courage. For we shall make after all a fair conclusion to this brief song that is us."

He folded the paper and put it back in his suit pocket, taking in a shuddering breath as he stepped away from the podium.

They all stood as the casket was lowered into the ground. His eyes did not mist over with tears, but he felt the pain all the same.

"This doesn't feel right," Colin murmured. "Burying an empty casket."

"Shhh," Dragon gently admonished.

Mr. Hebert poured down the first shovelful of soil. J'onn did the rest, filling it in instantly with a gesture and smoothing it down.

There was a long silence after that. Then, slowly, they began to walk away, one by one.

"I wish the big guy could've been here to see it," Dennis muttered.

Weld could only nod as he continued forward, and began to reminisce.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _It took two more cities before Scylla and Charybdis were finally destroyed, their cores shattered by some phased attack she'd made. She was always good at surprising him with yet another thing she could do._

 _He still remembered the rumbling beneath his feet when the ground split open a few minutes later, revealing Kon and what remained of Behemoth. A literal world-shaking battle, Dennis joked later. He certainly didn't forget to make jokes about the sight of the nude hybrid, which had seared itself into many people's brains._

 _They needed the humor, after the flash of golden light in the skies, followed by the discovery of the Simurgh's remains. After the intoxicating sense of victory, it served as a sobering reminder of what they were up against. The entire world seemed to be turned upside down, and seeing her and Scion look at each other for a moment didn't help. The relief when the golden man simply flew away was unlike anything he could recall._

 _He knew it wouldn't last._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

They could barely fit in the living room. It was a small house, after all, and the creaking of the floorboards beneath his feet didn't help. There was something inherently funny about it, honestly; the girl who could have anything, living in a rickety mess of a house.

Mr. Hebert and J'onn simply stood in one corner, talking to each other in hushed tones. Occasionally, one of them would have a small smile on their face. Colin, Dragon, and Duncan took another, holding a more animated conversation. Dennis and Emma sat on the couch, holding hands. Dennis seemed to be doing his damndest to cheer her up, regaling her with amusing stories of working in the League.

Weld simply stood in the middle of it all, watching them. He remembered the last time they were all gathered here; a far more festive occasion.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _Dennis sat in one of the armchairs, Emma snuggled on his lap as they poorly sang along to some jaunty old Christmas tune. The adults were playing some kind of guessing game involving word association, laughing and shouting as they did. Kon had passed out on the couch, a carton of egg nog on his chest. The poor kid had been exhausted after his fight, and had uncharacteristically agreed to some indulgences at the festivities that doubled as victory party and Christmas celebration in one._

 _Weld stood in the room, watching the merriment with a smile on his face. This was definitely much better than the Christmas parties back in Boston._

 _"Having fun?"_

 _He turned to see her, smiling warmly at him. She was wearing a goofy Christmas sweater and slacks, the reflections of Christmas lights dancing across her glasses. It was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen._

 _"I am," he replied._

 _"But?"_

 _"What do you mean, but?"_

 _She gave him a coy look. "I know when something's up."_

 _He sighed. No use in trying to hide it._

 _"I'm just worried, that's all."_

 _"I know," she said. "I'm worried too. But that doesn't mean we can't enjoy ourselves today, can we?"  
_

 _"I guess."_

 _She looked at him for a moment, then took his hand. "Come with me."_

 _"Where are we going?" he asked, feeling himself tugged along._

 _"Up," she said, a strange smile on her face as they began to scale the stairs._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The door slowly swung open, and Weld stepped into the silent room. It was only the third time he'd been inside, and he noticed new things every time. The posters of musicians and scientist on the wall, or the small art station she'd set up for sketches.

His eyes fell on the bed, and he smirked when he realized that the bed frame had been replaced since last time. He sat down, feeling how it creaked beneath him. More memories surfaced, far more private than the others.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _He felt anxious as he stepped inside, looking around the room. He was so preoccupied that he didn't notice her putting her cape on the exterior knob before shutting the door._

 _"Is everything alright?" he asked, turning around to see that she'd taken off her civilian clothes, revealing the uniform beneath._

 _She pulled into a sudden kiss, embracing him gently yet strongly. He returned it after a moment, surprised by how... passionate it was. They finally broke the kiss, and he was quick to connect the dots on what was intended._

 _"A-are you... are you sure..." he whispered._

 _"If you don't want to, we don't have to," she said, pulling off her glasses and letting her beautiful blue eyes shine. "Do you?"_

 _There was something strange about it. The suddenness of it, as though something urgent had happened behind those eyes. He didn't comment on it, however, dismissing it as just anxiety. He simply returned the kiss, pulling her into a tight embrace._

 _He felt her guide his hands up to the nape of her neck, where there was a kind of magnetic 'zipper'. She had him pinch it between his thumb and forefinger, then pulled out of the kiss, staring into his eyes._

 _"Pull," she whispered in his ear._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

"Hey."

He looked up to see Dennis standing in the doorway. The red-haired boy had an uncharacteristically glum look on his face as he leaned against the wall, watching intently.

"How are you holding up, man?" Dennis asked.

"I'm alright," he lied.

"You're not exactly convincing."

"I think it's more for me than you."

Silence.

"We're, uh, heading out," Dennis finally said. "Emma and I, that is."

"How's she holding up?"

"About as well as anyone else who lost their best friend. I think she'll be alright after a while."

"At least she's got you."

"Yeah. She's got me." Dennis turned to leave, then looked back. "I understand if you don't wanna talk right now. But if you ever want to hang out and talk, just holler."

"Thanks, Dennis," Weld said. "For everything."

"Least I can do," the red-haired boy replied. "I'm in the League, aren't I?"

He walked out, and shut the door behind him. Weld laid down on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _Sometimes, being unable to sleep really made things awkward._

 _They simply lay at each other's sides, holding hands and looking up at the ceiling. For the longest time, neither of them spoke._

 _"We broke the bed," she finally said, giggling._

 _"I really hope they didn't hear the crash. I'm not sure if I could live with the embarrassment if they did."_

 _"Puh-lease. I already considered that."_

 _"Lemme guess. Kryptonian technology?"_

 _"You bet."_

 _They giggled for a few moments, and continued to look up at the ceiling. Weld didn't know how long they stayed like that. It could've been ten minutes, it could've been five hours._

 _He did know that if he had a working heart, it would've seized when he heard what she said next._

 _"Weld, we need to talk about something."_

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He walked out of the house to see J'onn and Mr. Hebert standing on the front porch, staring at the night sky. The old Martian had returned to his natural form, orange eyes glowing in the darkness as they peered upwards.

 _I don't mind if you decide to stay here for a while. I think we could use the company._

Weld obliged. He titled his head back, and looked at the stars.

"Before we learned the truth about Krypton, I used to wonder which one she came from," Weld said. "Never considered that I was standing on it."

 _I can only imagine the shock,_ J'onn said.

"Tell me about it," Mr. Hebert said, sounding very far away.

For a few minutes, they stargazed in silence. Weld's gaze fell on a familiar red light on the horizon, brighter than most of the stars. It felt strange, looking at his friend and former bosse's home planet.

 _My time on this world is over,_ J'onn said.

Weld looked at him, but said nothing.

 _I have done what I had to do. The last of the destroyers is gone._

"I can't imagine how you're feeling right now," Weld said. "I can't imagine keeping up a mission for a hundred years, let alone a billion. Spending so much of that time fighting, or thinking about how you're going to fight, only for that drive to vanish overnight."

 _It's like carrying a boulder on your back for almost all of your life,_ J'onn said. _And suddenly... it's gone, and you can stand straight again. But standing straight feels strange, now._

"What are you going to do now?"

 _I am going back into that cold emptiness, and ensure this planet stays safe._

"But there's no more of them, right?"

J'onn gave him a pitying glance. _There are worse things than the worms out there, Weld._

"Oh," was all he could say.

 _Do not fret. This world has something better than the worms, too._

"Had," he said, softly.

J'onn gave him that strange Martian smile. _You don't actually think she's good for good, do you?_

With that, he took to the sky, and soon disappeared from sight. Weld watched for a few moments, staring skyward.

"I hope that he's right," Mr. Hebert said.

"I hope so, too, sir."

Mr. Hebert made a humorless laugh. "Sir. That was something she used to tell me about. How polite you were, and how wholesome you could be."

"I see," he said.

"She really cared about you, you know. The way her tone changed when she mentioned you... Annette used to do that, when we first started dating."

Weld looked at him. "She talked about you sometimes, sir. Said she was lucky to have you as a father."

"I was the lucky one," Mr. Hebert said, softly. "I knew when that rocket opened up, that she was going to be someone special. Didn't know how she was going to be special, but I knew it was going to be _something_."

Weld kept silent. He couldn't imagine what it'd be like, outliving one's own child.

"I never regretted finding that rocket. I'm not going to start now." Mr. Hebert looked back up at the sky. "She's there, somewhere, and she's going to come back one day. Call it a father's instinct."

"I hope she is."

"Hope is what she's all about." Mr. Hebert smiled ruefully, then walked inside. "Goodnight, kid."

"Goodnight, sir."

"Call me Danny."

"Goodnight, Danny."

"That's more like it."

The door shut. Weld turned back, and continued stargazing for a few moments.

Then, he continued walking.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _Things stayed awkward for months after that._

 _It was understandable. To have such a bombshell dropped on him would take time to recover from. But when annihilation loomed at any moment, time was a luxury._

 _At first, he thought it was for the best that they didn't really have time to talk. There was so much that needed to be done; secretly preparing evacuation plans, scouting out potential allies, and getting the weapons ready. The time apart would be good for them, to work things out on their own._

 _It was Dennis who pulled him over one day, when there was a lull in patrolling._

 _"Dude, we need to talk."_

 _"What do you mean?"_

 _"I mean you need to patch things up with her before it's too late, man."_

 _He'd straightened at that. "Clock, I don't know what you're talking about. There's no problem with Superwoman and I."_

 _"Yeah, that's totally why you two haven't been on any dates since Christmas," Dennis said, voice dripping with sarcasm._

 _"We haven't had time-"_

 _"Bullshit! That's bullshit and you know it. I've still been able to go on dates with Emma, and the only reason I pull less shifts than you is because I need to sleep." Dennis took a deep breath. "I know you're hurt, man. Something as big as that, especially when she didn't tell you until Christmas..."_

 _Weld stared. "You..."_

 _"Do you seriously think being a joker's the only thing to me?" Dennis asked. "Believe me, man. I know how people act when they know they only have a while to live."_

 _A moment's pause._

 _"Do you wonder how I got my powers? My trigger event?"_

 _"I know most don't like to talk about it," Weld said._

 _"Consider this a special time." Dennis sighed. "I never really told you, but my dad... well, he has leukemia. Stage III."_

 _"Oh."_

 _"Yeah. I'm genetically compatible, so I agreed to let them take some of my marrow, and well... after a few donations, I just got terrified of that big-ass needle. You can feel it punching through your bone. And one day, I just suddenly froze the thing when it touched my skin."_

 _Dennis paused for a moment, then continued. "What I'm trying to say is... you have every right to feel the way you do. Having your girlfriend hide that she's dying from you like that probably hurts more than that needle. You're probably too nice to actually be angry about it, but when my Dad was going through the worst of it, I got mad. I got angry at him for making my mom cry herself to sleep every night, and for making my uncle get so stressed that he turned grey at forty. And I got angry at myself for **being** angry at him."_

 _Another pause._

 _"Then my Dad got **really** sick. Nasty infection from an operation. We were told he'd be lucky to make it till morning, but he pulled through. Still, I remember thinking about all the things I'd never get to do with him again. He was unconscious for most of it, so I couldn't even talk to him. Looking at him in that bed, and realizing that I may never actually get to tell him how I feel..._

 _Weld said nothing._

 _"I'm not expecting you to just make up on the spot because of what I said. But just remember that if take too long, you might never have the chance."_

 _Dennis rolled his shoulders, and continued walking. "Let's get going, man. Last one to the pick-up has to buy at Fugly Bob's."_

 _For a moment, Weld simply watched his friend walk away. Then, he followed after him._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The transfer pad flashed, and he found himself in the Fortress.

The vast halls felt like a mausoleum, despite how brightly lit they were. There was a certain _air_ to it, a solemn stillness that wasn't found in most other places.

His heavy footsteps echoed through the crystalline halls as he passed the terrariums and libraries and labs they'd spent so long working on. He briefly paused by the holding tank they'd made for Noelle, the same day they formed the League.

He wondered what she was doing on Earth Aleph, now, then continued on.

After a while, he became aware of sounds coming from one of the labs. He jogged over, hand forming into a blade in the off-chance he needed to use it. He sidled up to the open doorway, then peered inside.

Colin was hunched over the workshop table, working on his helmet. Not for his Defiant persona, however; Weld noticed a distinct pair of horns protruding from the black cowl.

"Come in if you'd like," Colin said. "I'm not doing much."

Weld shifted the blade back into a hand, and stepped inside. "Evening, Colin."

"Evening."

"Sorry if he's a bit gruff," Dragon interjected from a panel on the wall. "He's been throwing himself into his work since he got here."

"I can't blame him," Weld said.

"How are you holding up?" Colin asked, setting a tool down and grabbing some kind of glowing screwdriver.

"Everyone's been asking me that. I guess the answer is: what you'd expect."

"That bad, then."

"That bad," Weld echoed. "I kinda want to talk about something else."

"Like what?" Dragon asked.

"Like what we're going to do now." Weld rubbed the back of his head. "J'onn left."

"We know," Dragon said. "He told us first."

"Does Dennis know?"

"We were planning on telling him when he comes in for his next shift, if he doesn't know already."

Weld leaned against the wall, hands in his pockets. He watched Colin tinker for a few minutes.

"Is the League even still a thing anymore?" he finally asked.

"It needs to be," Colin said. "Crime rates are going to spike unless we do something to counteract it. We've been talking to the capes we scouted out before what happened, seeing if any of them are going to join."

"And?"

"It's inconclusive so far," Dragon replied, softly. "It's going to be a while before the dust fully settles. We've connected with two other Earths, and there's all the rebuilding efforts and humanitarian aid we're looking at. We were lucky the casualties are only in the millions."

She sighed. "I worry we won't get as many volunteers as we liked. She was a more than just our powerhouse and leader. She was a beacon. Without that..."

"Yeah," Weld said. "Yeah, I can see that."

"We're also keeping an eye out for any remnants of Cauldron," Colin said. "We might have a potential shadow war on our hands, for all we know."

"You still haven't told me the whole picture of what happened with them."

"And I'm not sure I ever will," Colin said. "Too many risks."

Of course it was too many risks. They had always done their hardest to keep him distanced from anything regarding that organization. Maybe they were afraid he'd be too emotionally compromised on the matter. He decided to change the subject, before it got more uncomfortable than it already was.

"Any change with the big guy yet?"

"Same as before," Dragon said, glumly. "You can go see for yourself if you want."

A sigh. "Might as well."

"Just one thing," Colin said suddenly, more forceful than expected.

Weld paused.

Colin looked at Dragon, then back to him, an uncomfortable look on his face.

"Brainiac made us aware of her, er, will. She'd written one almost a month ago. Most of it deals with her civilian life. She left Emma some things, and even gave Dragon and I charge of the archives as well."

"Okay. Is something wrong?"

"Well... she left you the Fortress."

He stared numbly for a few moments.

"She left me the Fortress."

"She explicitly stated that in the event of... well, apparently this entire place belongs to you. She even programmed Brainiac to obey you instead of her."

More out of reflex than any biological need, Weld swallowed hard. "Why me?"

"Because," Dragon said, "she said that if anyone else could be trusted with the League's future, it was you."

* * *

==/*\==

* * *

 _She was standing alone near one of the large windows in the Fortress, staring out across the Arctic landscape. It seemed as good a time as any to go over and talk with her. Not discuss a mission, or their plans regarding Scion. Just them, and a talk that was long overdue._

 _"Hey," she said._

 _"Hey," he echoed._

 _They looked at each other for a few moments. There was a tension in the air, so thick he could practically see it. He wasn't sure if it was the low Arctic light, but she looked paler than usual._

 _"Weld, I'm sorry." She rubbed her arms, in an uncharacteristically vulnerable gesture._

 _"I know," he said. "I'm sorry, too."_

 _She looked at him, surprise clear in her eyes. "For what? I betrayed your trust by not telling you earlier. You didn't do anything."_

 _"What you did... it hurt. But I can understand why you did it." He took a step closer. "I can't imagine what you're going through. I can try, but I'll never get close. You might've hurt me, but I'm not the one who's dying. It's like trying to compare a molehill to a mountain."_

 _She turned her gaze away, looking at the floor. "When I told you, I was afraid of what you'd say. I... I guess I was scared that you'd..."_

 _"I won't," Weld said. "I should've talked to you sooner. I want to make this work, even through rough times."_

 _She wiped her eyes with the ball of her palm. "Can we make this work? You and us? Even knowing everything that's going on, everything that's going to happen to me?"_

 _He took her hands into his, rubbing them with his thumbs. "You're Superwoman. You can do anything."_

 _She smiled at him, holding his gaze with damp eyes._

 _Then the smile faded._

 _It happened so quickly. Her cheeks turned bright red, then deathly pale, completely drained of blood. Her eyes rolled up, and she collapsed into his arms. Blood began to smear over his shoulder, red and slick._

 _Weld remembered screaming for help, and remembered gently lowering her to the floor to check her vitals. The sight of the blood leaking from her eyes and nose would be forever etched into his mind._

 _When red light flooded through the window, he turned to see that the sun had changed. No longer was it a small orange disc, but had expanded and turned the color of blood. For a moment, he thought back to the simulation she'd shown him, of that grassy field on Krypton._

 _He was vaguely aware of J'onn and Legend rushing to his side. He heard them barking orders, but didn't process him, even as Dragon's suits came with the functioning Phantom Drives. He didn't know why that was needed; a Phantom Drive wasn't going to cure her disorder._

 _Then the ceiling erupted in golden light, and the Drive activated._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

The hole in the ceiling was almost completely patched up, now. Kryptonian technology was simply astounding in its capabilities, even considering the limitations it did have.

It was kinda funny. He never stopped being in awe of the miracles it could achieve, and yet he damned its failures harder than anyone else.

Something caught his attention in the corner of his eye, and he realized he was walking past the Phantom Zone Projector. When they finally invented the device, they needed a test subject to see how well it'd work on someone else. However, there was a considerable risk that anyone who went in would never be able to leave. The test subject needed to be someone whose life had already been deemed forfeit by the law.

Thankfully, they had just the person in mind. He turned to look at the rhombus-shaped hole in reality, and its sole occupant.

"Evening, Jack," he said.

Jack Slash glared at him, but could do little else. The name of his prison was apt; he was little more than a malignant spirit inside that dimension, incapable of doing harm to anyone ever again. He wouldn't even be able to harm anyone else thrown in alongside him, though no-one else had been deemed dangerous enough for that punishment.

Weld sighed, and left Jack to continue watching subtitled episodes of Mr. Roger's Neighborhood.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _He'd never felt so useless until now._

 _He was being in a shuttle, along with Dennis, and shuffled between realities while the more powerful members of the League did what they could to delay Scion, even for a moment. Even Dennis was being useful; he was hunched over her unconscious form, freezing and refreezing her, trying to delay the inevitable as long as he could._

 _Weld, on the other hand, could do nothing. He couldn't operate the legion of shuttles and drones and other war machines that Dragon constructed, nor could he fly and provide covering fire, like J'onn and Duncan. Even Colin could fly one of the larger war machines._

 _What could he do against Scion? They'd been constantly helping him improve himself, absorbing stronger and stronger alloys to the point where he was probably in the top ten in terms of pure toughness. They'd even placed an antigravity device into his uniform, to allow him a limited form of flight._

 _And yet, despite the constant improvements he'd gone under, his strength was minuscule when compared to the entity. Anything he could do, others on the League could do better, and a hundredfold._

 _With her, it was more likely a trillionfold._

 _Through the windows, he saw the landscapes of various Earths flicker by. He saw Earths without atmospheres, and Earths covered in nothing but inky black oceans that were churned by torrential rainstorms._

 _Suddenly, the shuttle came to a sudden stop, touching down on the rocky soil of some frigid-seeming Earth. There was a flash in view, and he saw some of Dragon's drones appear, accompanied by J'onn and Duncan._

 _"We need you outside ASAP," Dragon barked._

 _The doors slid open, and Weld obliged, sprinting out. J'onn landed to greet him, smoke still rising from some of his blackened flesh._

 _"We've been barely able to slow him down," the Martian said. "We hurt him, but there's only so much damage we can do at any given time, and we still don't have the firepower to keep him off-balance."_

 _"Then how are we delaying him right now?"_

 _"Kon," J'onn replied, grimly. "But even he won't last forever. We need to pull out one of the emergency plans and try to target his psyche."_

 _Weld nodded, remembering what this was going to entail. "Do it quickly."_

 _J'onn raised a hand, and Weld grimaced as he felt his body forcibly changed by an invisible force. He guided it along with his own limited shapeshifting abilities, doing most of the legwork. In less than a minute, a female companion to the entity stood in his place, with skin of silver._

 _"Good." J'onn himself shifted, turning into a alabaster counterpart to Scion. "Let's hope this works."_

 _Weld felt himself lifted into the air, and brought within range of the Phantom Drive. There was a spurious sensation of motion, and he realized he was on yet another Earth, this one covered in seemingly endless desert. He vaguely realized he was floating tens of miles over the surface, skimming the edge of space._

 _And yet, he could still see the battle between Kon and Scion. He could see flashes of golden light that carved mile-wide craters into the land, as well as impacts that parted the clouds from the sky and splintered the earth beneath. The entire area was criss-crossed by angry red trenches carved by Kon's breath attack, gasses spewing out from the exposed mantle._

 _Suddenly, the fighting stopped, and Weld realized Scion was flying towards them. Despite having no adrenal glands, he could still feel the dread pooling in his stomach as the harbinger of human extinction approached._

 _"Stay calm," J'onn warned._

 _Scion came to a stop less than a hundred feet away, an ominous golden glow suffusing his figure as he studied the two. For a moment, his face remained the same emotionless countenance it had been for decades._

 _Then, a look of pain crossed his face, followed by anger. He bared his teeth, howling, screaming. He raised a hand to lash out-_

 _-and the Projector teleported in behind him._

 _There was no time to destroy it, no time to react. Simply a flash of light, and he was gone. When Weld's vision cleared, he realized that the rhombus shape of the localized Phantom Zone portal had taken Scion's place. Inside, he could see the golden man screaming still, filling the void with fearsome light._

 _"D-did it work?" Weld asked._

 _There was a moment's pause as the glow intensified._

 _"No," J'onn said._

 _Scion simply disappeared, then reappeared outside of the portal. He waved his hand, and the Projector crumbled to dust._

 _Kon slammed into the entity, both of them tumbling into the sky at hypersonic speeds, and Weld was whisked back._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He stopped before the transparent wall, gazing at the laboratory within. His silver eyes studied the macabre figure standing in the center, being attended to by countless devices whose function he could never understand. It almost reminded him of Behemoth, towards the end of its 'life', when most of its false flesh had been stripped away. A hulking skeleton of glittering crystal, with loose strands of flesh keeping it connected.

"Good evening, Weld," Brainiac said.

"Good evening," he mumbled back, numbly aware that he was now the one in charge. "Uh, Brainiac, do we have any progress so far?"

"None so far. The cellular tissue is still alive, and even slowly regenerating in some places, but any attempts to speed it along has proven fruitless. There is no telling whether he will revive, or if his tissues are simply undergoing runaway processes."

"O-okay," Weld said. "Keep doing what you're doing. But if there's no sign after a week... let him be buried back home."

"Understood."

He sighed, and walked away, leaving Kon-El behind.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _The chase had begun once more, but with a more vicious tempo._

 _Weld could barely witness it as the shuttle made jump after jump after jump. He saw golden blasts boil oceans and shatter continents as Scion continued after them. He saw glimpses of the League and Kon engaging the entity, along with others._

 _They couldn't stop Scion. They hit him with energy blasts, telekinetic attacks, spatial warping, fields of altered time... each shrugged everything off, or quickly adapted to whatever actually hit him._

 _Finally, a blast grazed the shuttle, and it came to a sudden stop as it hit the ground. There was a moment of discontinuity, and Weld vaguely realized he'd tumbled nearly a hundred meters away from the shuttle. She laid down near him, no longer frozen in time by Dennis._

 _Weld got to his feet and hurried to her side, checking her pulse. He barely felt a sign of life coming from her. Her eyes were still rolled up, fresh blood pouring from their corners. She coughed violently, painting his face in spatters of dark red as she heaved._

 _"No," he murmured to himself. "No. Stay with me, stay with me. **Please**."_

 _Space folded a half-kilometer away, Kon smashed into the ground, smoke rising from his chest. Weld watched with wide eyes as the hybrid struggled to his feet. Massive gashes had been torn into his grey hide, and most of his spikes had been broken away. The wounds were healing, but far slower than expected._

 _Kon ran forward, crossing the distance before Weld could process the information. A massive hand grabbed him, and she was picked up in the other._

 _"We must move swiftly, Sister's metal lover," the hybrid said._

 _Weld felt immense forces pulling at him as Kon jumped upwards, clearing kilometers in a single bound. Behind him, he became vaguely aware of a flash of golden light._

 _"I must take the time to make a simple request of you," Kon said, far calmer than he should have been. "Should my body be destroyed, ensure that the remains are given the proper rites."_

 _He could only nod. They landed again, and Kon began to run, the faint pop of a sonic boom reaching Weld's ears. He tried to crane his head to see her, but could only make out Kon's brawny chest._

 _Scion was in front of them, now. He floated above them, body trembling as a massive golden sphere formed around him._

 _Kon suddenly stopped. For a moment, Weld saw the hybrid's eyes look far away, beyond all that was happening. In the midst of Hell, he looked as serene as a still pond._

 _"Hold on to her," he said. "Hold on to her, and never let her go."_

 _He brought them together. Weld held on to her as tightly as possible, wrapping his legs around her torso, looping his arms with hers. He had a bad feeling of what was going to happen next._

 _"මම ඔයාට ආදරෙයි, සහෝදරිය," Kon said, and punted them skyward._

 _The impact was not like anything he'd ever experienced. It was as though a brick wall had slammed into every nanoangstrom of his body, compressing it. He felt himself spinning around, like a runaway top. He caught glimpses of the black of space, then of the world below them. He saw a brilliant flash of light, followed by an explosion that seemed to practically bare the Earth's core._

 _Through it all, he held on to her as tightly as he could, refusing to let up for even a moment._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He couldn't bear to be in this tomb anymore.

Dragon picked him up with a drone, and flew him back to ex-Director Armstrong's home in Boston. They exchanged no words during the flight; neither of them was in the mood for talking.

Nobody was home when he was gently deposited on the front lawn. Sighing, he unlocked the door with the spare key and stepped inside, making a beeline for the room the former Director had set aside for him. It was the closest thing he had to a home of his own.

At least, it was now.

He opened the door, and was surprised to see a small box on his bed. Hesitantly, he approached it, then flipped the lid open. Inside was a case of some sort, and he carefully worked the latches, then swung it open.

There was a silver flute inside, gently nestled in a mold, along with a handwritten note. With trembling hands, he took the note out and began to read.

 _For my musical man of steel,_

 _This used to belong to my mother, before she died. This is perhaps my most treasured possession, even more than the message that Kal-El left, or the cape. I never learned how to play, though. Isn't that funny? I know how much you love to listen to music, so I thought you'd like to give **making** it a try. _

_Love, your girl of steel._

Weld smiled faintly, and put the case back down. Sitting down on the bed, he reached under and pulled out a shoebox. He never wore shoes, but there'd been an old one lying around, and he decided to put it to good use.

Slowly opening the box, he pulled out a bright red cloth, and stared at the familiar symbol woven in yellow.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

 _Hope was lost._

 _Even through the spinning caused by the kick into orbit, Weld could still see the golden man slowly approaching. No one else had come to oppose the entity. Either they were all dead, or had no idea of where they were. Either way, the end result was the same._

 _That didn't mean he was going to do nothing. He extended a hand into a blade, and swiped at Scion's chest as he approached. It sliced clean through, sending droplets of golden blood floating into the void, and he repeated the action, striking over and over, even as each blow hit less and less._

 _Scion seemed to be swiftly growing bored. He caught Weld's hand and severed it with a flash of golden light, discarding it like garbage. With a flick of his hand, he pulled him away from her, even as a steel fist pounded into his flawless face._

 _Scion regarded him for a moment, then turned to the lifeless figure floating in the void. He slowly extended a hand, as though to reach out and grab her, as though to taunt Weld with the inevitability of her coming demise._

 _Then, hope sprung anew._

 _A delicate hand grabbed the golden man's wrist, crushing it like soap foam, and Weld managed to see a look of surprise on Scion's face. Then twin beams of red light struck the entity in the chest, severing his other arm and sending him flying back. Weld found himself spinning through space again, only for a hand to clamp down on his shoulder._

 _He turned, and found himself staring into her blue eyes._

 _The bleeding had stopped, and a flush had returned to her face. A faint blue light seemed to suffuse every inch of her body, but it was not like Scion's. Instead, it was as though she was but a sheet of paper, allowing the light to pass through her._

 _She smiled at him, and he found himself smiling back._

 _Then a narrow golden beam washed over her temple, and she frowned._

 _For the first time, as she turned to glare at the entity, Weld saw a look of genuine rage on her face. Not disappointment, or the constrained anger he had seen before._

 _This was like seeing the wrath of God._

 _Scion fired with a massive beam, the same kind that had shattered continents, and it simply stopped. There was no crackling of a forcefield, or any other sign of deflection; it was as though space itself simply ran out before it could reach her._

 _Gently letting go, she darted towards Scion, but it was like there was no sense of movement. She was in one spot, and then she was in the next, both hands plunged into his chest. Like she was simply spreading her arms, she forced Scion's chest open, widening the portal to the real him._

 _Scion silently screamed, blasting her with unholy energies, but she seemed unfazed by it all. When her eyes flared red, and blasted into his portal, he suddenly went limp._

 _She grabbed Scion by the neck, then gestured with her free hand. A circle opened in space, and Weld caught the impression of an endless tunnel of concentric white and black rings._

 _Then she disappeared inside, dragging Scion with her._

 _The circle closed, then immediately reopened, spewing her out. This time, however, Scion was nowhere to be found._

 _Weld could only watch in awe as she took him by the shoulder, and they were suddenly back home. Not on some random Earth, but **home** , in Brockton Bay. They gently alighted onto a street, right by the park. Now that there was finally an atmosphere, he found the power to speak._

 _"Y-you..."_

 _"I know," she said. "When I was out... something happened. I... I can't explain it. At least, I don't have the time."_

 _"Did you kill him? Is he gone?"_

 _"Gone, but not dead. I didn't give him the luxury. He's in one possible future, a googol years from now. The only thing he has for company are a few scattered leptons and photons, drifting through emptiness. He killed countless innocents to try and avoid the heat death of the universe, so I brought him right to it, to enjoy for the rest of his life."_

 _"But why?" Weld asked._

 _Her mouth tightened into a thin line._

 _"Because he killed my baby brother. Because he was going to kill you, and everyone else I loved. Killing him would have been a kindness."_

 _Weld shook his head, as though trying to pull himself out of a dream. "I... I don't know what's going on. Everything's happening so fast."_

 _"I wish I had time to tell you everything that's going on," she said. "It's a lot for me, too. There's so many more things I can do, and see..."_

 _She looked up, at the swollen red sun. Numbly, he realized that her skin was beginning to split in places, light spilling out. God, it was as though she was full of stars._

 _"But I don't have time," she said, softly. "I need to be there, to undo what he did."_

 _"Can you do that?"_

 _She smiled. "I'm Superwoman. I can do anything."_

 _She pulled him into a soft kiss, wrapping her arms around his. Weld felt cloth in his hands, and he realized she was giving him her cape._

 _Pulling away, she stared into his eyes. Then, she gave the broadest smile he had ever seen on her, even as tears began to pour down her cheeks._

 _"I love you, Weld," she said. "Forever and always."_

 _Then she was gone._

 _He was still standing there, holding her cape in his hands, when the rest of the League finally returned. When the sun suddenly shrank back into a small bright disc, and the skies turned blue once more, he was still standing in that street, staring upwards._

* * *

 **S**

* * *

Sighing, he put the cape back in the box, and laid down on the bed. He fumbled for his old cassette player, and began to play the music. He needed to lose himself in song.

A few seconds passed before he realized it was the tape she had given him.

Pulling the earplugs out, he simply closed his eyes. While he almost never slept, it occasionally came to him, especially in times of long-term stress. This was definitely one of those times.

He didn't know how long he laid there, waiting, but eventually sleep found him.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He woke to see a ghost staring at him.

"Hey," she said, sheepishly.

He bolted upright, eyes wide. She was sitting on his bed, legs folded into the lotus position. Her uniform was nowhere to be seen; she was dressed in her civilian clothes, braces and all.

He reached out to touch her, but his hand passed through nothing but air.

"I'm not actually here," she said softly. "I guess it's kinda like astral projection. It's not easy, either, so I need to be quick."

"Y-you're alive," he breathed.

"I'm more than that. When I collapsed... I think I saw them. Kal-El. Mom. Others. They told me that I was undergoing the ultimate stage of human development, into something called a solar-radio-consciousness. They said that every possibility was before me. I could've become one with the Source, and play in the fields of consciousness forever."

"But you didn't."

"I had a choice," she said. "And I chose to be me."

A pregnant silence.

"Are you ever going to come back?" he asked.

"I might come back tomorrow, or I might come back in ten years." She straightened a little. "I want you to keep up the good fight while I'm gone. You, and Colin and Dragon and Kon-"

"But Kon's..."

She gave a small laugh. "You're going to be in for a surprise."

He looked down. "I don't know if we're up to it."

"What do you think the symbol on my chest stands for? Between all of you, you can step up. You're much stronger than you think you are, Weld."

He looked back to her. "Is that why you left me the Fortress?"

"Do I need to answer that?"

"I guess not."

"Glad to see it." She smiled broadly. "Goodbye, Weld."

"Before you go..." Weld sucked in a breath. "Taylor, I love you too."

A smirk. "I know. Time to wake up."

* * *

 **S**

* * *

He woke to his phone ringing.

For a moment, he simply stayed in place, unwilling to move. The sun was out, shining through the window, and he hated it.

He could hardly remember his dreams, usually, but this one stuck with him longer than usual, like a thorn in his toe. Of course he couldn't even find solace in sleep; it was fitting that his own brain would continue to remind him of what he'd lost

Slowly sitting up, he fumbled for his phone and flipped it open.

"Weld here," he muttered, irritably.

"Weld, it's Colin." He sounded urgent. "It's about Kon."

At once, the feeling disappeared.

"It's astonishing; there was no nervous tissue left, but he still has-"

"I know," Weld interrupted.

"How... never mind. Be here as soon as possible; he wants to talk to you for some reason, something about a dream..."

"I'll be right over."

He snapped the phone shut, then got up. He made for the door, then paused, thinking. Turning back, he knelt down and pulled the shoebox out from under the bed, and flipped it open. Slowly, he removed the cape, staring.

Some had suggested giving it to the Smithsonian; others wanted it for the life-sized statue on the Rhode Island State House, the one they made after Leviathan's final attack.

He looked at it for a moment, gently rubbing the fabric with his thumb.

Then he stood up, and went to the mirror.

It was not easy work, molding his tissue delicately, but he could manage. Slowly, but surely, he began raise and lower parts of the skin on his chest, physically carving it where needed with a nanoknife Colin had given him for a utility belt. Eventually, a recognizable symbol became visible on his chest. There was nothing he could do about the lack of color, but he didn't wish to completely mimic it.

Then, he slung the cape over his shoulders.

For a few moments, he considered the appearance. Similar enough to honor her legacy, but different enough from mere mimicry.

Satisfied, he went for the door.

For the first time since she left, he felt something inside himself, bubbling up from his heart and spreading throughout his being.

Hope.

* * *

 **S**

* * *

I could see him go to the transfer pad, even from ninety three million miles out, and the sight put a smile on my face.

Everything felt so _different_ now, and at the same time, it felt as though things had never changed. I could see and hear so much more than before; I could hear the music of the spheres, and witness the mechanics that held the universe together, an experience that no one else could share.

And yet, I was still me.

It could be a while before I finally stabilized the Sun's core, and finished the celestial machinery that would keep it from ever being threatened again. But it would be finished, and one day Superwoman would return to Earth and keep up the never-ending struggle for truth, justice, and freedom.

Until then, however, I was content with being Taylor Hebert.

As I watched the little blue sphere that meant everything to me, I shifted my gaze, peering at the structure of the Source in a certain place...

-where I see you...

...and winked.

* * *

 _ **You have been reading:**_

 _ **The Girl of Tomorrow**_


End file.
